To The Woods
by thebluemartian
Summary: Christmastime in the French court brings news and the present of freedom from the threats of England to Mary as well as Francis's desire to set a wedding date. So why is she still not happy? A Mash (Mary/Bash) fic.
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Christmastime in the French court brings news and the present of freedom from the threats of England to Mary as well as Francis's desire to set a wedding date. So why is she still not happy? A Mash fic.

A/N: This is my first Reign fic and like the vast majority of my other stories will be an epic. Mary and Bash have a chemistry to me that I just can't ignore but I still love Francis, so there shouldn't be any character bashing here. Reviews are much appreciated!

As always, I own none of these characters. Just taking them for a spin.

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Her friends were all eager and aglow in their revelry. It was Christmastime and their Queen's days of having to run from the constant threat overhead came to end with the simple sentence uttered by King Henry when she was pulled away from the dancing to the hall with Francis, Bash and her ladies in tow. "Your cousin Elizabeth has been found guilty of treason for planning an uprising against her sister, the Catholic Queen Mary. She was executed the morning before last."

Mary hadn't a reaction for that. None at all. She'd been expecting a warning about yet another plot against her own life, an order to run and protect herself. Perhaps even some news on the English envoy who seemed oddly absent from court at the moment. But most certainly not this.

Francis spoke for her immediately, and she didn't mind it as she couldn't find the words herself. "Mary is the next in line for the English crown then." It was a statement and a question all at once.

"Yes." His father confirmed and turned to Mary. "You are."

"But," she found her voice as Bash came into her peripheral vision, his gaze so intense on her that she immediately tried to cover up how shaken she felt. "why would she plan an uprising when her sister was already sick and dieing? It doesn't make sense for her not to simply wait it out."

Henry nodded in agreement, as did Catherine who, oddly, continued to remain silent during this exchange. "The two are one in the same. Elizabeth's plot was to slowly poison her sister, slowly as to avoid detection by the tasters, and force her sister's death prematurely while you were still yet unmarried and in a less powerful position to take the crown from her on the account of her assumed illegitimacy."

"And she was found out? By whom?" Francis interjected when it became apparent to him that Mary was far too overwhelmed at the moment to reply. He's become accustomed to covering for her social anxieties in these types of situations because, as his half-brother so often reminded him, she's lived her entire life with a knife suspended above her head. That certainly creates a sense of constant fear in the heart of any monarch. He would not blame her if she were wondering on the possibility of yet another plot against her life, now that one was nearly successful against another.

Catherine finally found her voice. "One of her servants confessed to sneaking the poison into the Queen's food, at the request of Elizabeth, on her own death bed. An investigation was launched and two days ago Elizabeth was found guilty and executed immediately to cull her before Christmastime and to prevent further attempts on her behalf."

Mary nodded but made no reply for a moment. She stood there, stunned and staring into the eyes of Queen Catherine. As much as neither could consider the other a friend, far from it, both knew only the other woman was thinking the same thing in the room. This came to no relief for either, even if it should. "Thank you. Truly." It was all she could muster to say, thankful that Francis encouraged his parents back to the festivities and instructed her ladies in waiting to spend a few moments alone with her in the hall, allowing the queen privacy to adjust to her news and show her true feelings on the matter.

"This is such fabulous news!" She honestly couldn't be sure which of her ladies in waiting that came from since they were all spouting similar exclamations and she far too introverted by the stunning shift in events that she was not privy to just fifteen minutes prior.

"Mary." Kenna waved her hand in front of her queen's eyes hoping to and successfully getting her attention. If she weren't so positively lit alive by the Christmastime festivities and this incredible change of events she would find the time to be concerned about her Queen's lack of exuberance at the moment. "You're free!"

Mary, still stunned, looked around the room at her handmaidens, her friends. She saw their smiling faces, their excitement and so she responded as she was expected. "I will never have a meal that isn't tasted by another first, or have relief in fearing for my country, but yes. You are right, I suppose. England will be mine, Scotland is all mine."

"And Francis!" Greer swooned, encouraged by the smile spreading on her queen's face. "He will most certainly marry you now."

Mary's head snapped up and to her faster than she should have allowed. "What do you mean?" she paused, the thought already having been on the tip of her tongue. "Because now he has two countries' armies to gain?"

Mary knew it was the truth. She knew that Francis was now entirely free to marry her seeing as their alliance, now that she was to inherit the crown of England as well, would most certainly be the best alliance for his country.

"Isn't that what you want?" Lola hedged. "Together you would have the strongest force. And of course, you love him."

Mary smiled gently, and took each of her friends in a hug. "This is such happy news I hardly know what to do with it." Sensing her friends were picking up on the lack of exuberance they all shared in her statement she deflected with the command. "Now," she clapped her hands together, a smile still on her face and her tone turning playful. "I order you as your Queen all to the festivities. You are women of the Scottish _and_ English courts now."

Mary exhaled as the last of her friends entered the dancing yet again, distracted and unable to see her sneak off and out of the Castle to wander the grounds. She was happy, she was. The English threats and those here at the French court had been so taxing upon her she felt twice her age, and yet still unmarried.

She turned to towards the castle and sighed, both at the beauty of the light emanating from within the stone walls and almost dismally at the thought _I won't be unmarried for long now._

"Your Grace." The respectful greeting held all the cheekiness of tone usual of Bash so she had no reason to turn and confirm the identity of the man that sidled up beside her at that moment. "You're awfully close to the woods yet again."

"Are you ever going to tell me what is in those woods to fear or are you going to deflect the question, yet again?" Out of the corner of her eye she could see Bash glance at her just the same even though they both remained focused on the Castle's glow.

"Your Grace is well enough acquainted with me to know how I am likely to respond." He couldn't help but smile lightly as her lips tugged onto her cheeks as well.

"Deflection then." She sighed derisively yet amuse. "Very well."

They stood there for several minutes, side by side as music filtered past them from the Castle walls into the otherwise silent night.

"May I—" he started but stopped. There were some things not even he was brave enough to ask. A bastard born son of a king does not ask virtuous queens to dance, alone, at night, outside the castle.

"May you what?" she turned to him, entirely taken aback by what she saw in his eyes. Fear. Not the I-am-in-danger sort, but genuine, I-have-something-to-lose fear. "Sebastian?" she prodded.

He turned quickly at the concern in her voice, directed at him and only him. Never did he think she would be so concerned for his welfare alone. But the hope that thought brought to him was crushed inside as his mother's words resounded in his mind. _Be careful my son, or you will bleed for a girl who will never be yours. _ Never yours. Those words were haunting. "It is nothing your Grace."

"Mary." She corrected, once again turning towards the Castle, which while not so interesting as for them to both be staring at for so prolonged a period of time, was most certainly the safest thing to focus on. "You may call me Mary."

"Very well, Mary." He turned to her and bowed before approaching a bit closer. "You play your part quite well you know."

A slight hint of anger played in her tone. And she knew it was only there because of all the people at the French court only Bash seemed to understand her every feeling, feelings she works so hard to hide. "What do you mean?"

"I mean nothing by it your—Mary." He corrected himself. "I simply mean to put your mind at rest that your friends, my father, and my brother all seem quite convinced that you are simply being polite in not showing your joy that your cousin's death means your freedom from English threats."

She eyed him suspiciously. "And why would they think that?"

"I may have made an observation or two."

They remained silent for a moment as she thought that over. "Sebastian," she started but was interrupted.

"Bash." He insisted and took a chance. "Those close to me call me Bash."

She found the need to inhale deeply for a moment. "Bash." The familiar version of his name felt so good on her lips. "Thank you."

"Always of service your grace, Mary."

She started to pace forward and turn west towards the woods, not intending to enter them and not at all surprised that Bash was there along her side. When she stopped and took a seat on the log she often claimed as her own she gestured for him to join her. And he took his seat gently.

"Mary, may I ask why I had to make these observations to the court?"

She wished that just for once he wasn't so curious about her. But he did save her from a considerable amount of scrutiny in her response to all of this. While outright joy was not to be expected, a sense of relief and gratefulness was and his claiming politeness on her part relieved much of the anxiety she was beginning to feel at how subdued she'd seemed inside the castle hall. "You are so observant of me and my needs I would have thought you knew already."

He hadn't expected that. A protest that his concerns were not truly needed, perhaps. A claim that she was simply adjusting to her new role, likely. But he did not expect an admission that there was indeed something there to see. Nor did he expect an observation that she knows he is similarly watchful of her state. "While I must admit that I am aware you hold reluctance in your heart at the news. I cannot claim to know as to why."

For a moment she gave up the pretense that there was nothing wrong. He was the only one here she could speak with. Other than Clarissa, he was the only one she trusted. And of course she and Clarissa can't exactly have heart-to-heat conversations. "Have you ever wanted something? Needed something? And then an event occurs that renders that something unnecessary?" she didn't bother to pause for his response. "I find myself unsure if that something in question is what I have truly wanted or if I only wanted it for the very reason that it was what I needed."

"Your engagement to Francis." Bash stated and internally winced. She may be more open with him at the moment but that does not mean he should make accusations.

She was far too wary to care at the accusation he posited in her direction or at the inappropriateness of the same. "Yes."

His heart began to thud within his chest. He knew that her possibly not marrying his half-brother did not mean he could have her. There were a myriad of issues in the way, his being a bastard topping the list. But to hear her almost admit that her feelings might not be truly genuine for Francis, he thought he finally felt true elation. "If it truly is not what you want, is there something else that you may want its place?"

She gathered her breath, wondering what to say to that. "I would very much like to dance."

His smile grew steadily as he stood, bowed to the beautiful queen and offered his hand. When she took it and a moment later he found himself leading her steps to the music filtered from the castle, in the light from the same , he also found he didn't care anything about the danger lurking nearby in the woods. He held no care about being found in this predicament, save that concern over her reputation. He hid nothing that due to his mother's warning he had been sure to bury behind his cheeky façade. He cared only for the young woman brave enough to spend these precious moments in his arms.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: I am thrilled to see such interest in this story. I realize this is a growing fandom and am honored to be a part of it from the beginning. As always, reviews are much appreciated!

I do not own Reign.

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"Your page and guards are absent from their posts." Bash hesitated, standing just inside the queen's quarters, nearby the now closed door. "Mary, one begins to worry about your welfare when they see carelessness such as this. A young Queen should not go unprotected."

She wouldn't have even known he was there had he not said anything. She was too distracted looking out her window at the spot where she and Bash danced the night before. She wondered if the guard that witnessed and interrupted their dance on the castle grounds would say anything. She wondered what that dance may have meant and if he had finally given up all lingering pretense of sometimes addressing her as 'your grace' instead of her Christian name. She always preferred their familiarity.

His voice made her smile, her heart thudding and the answer as to why far too present to examine at the moment. "Their absence is not necessarily an invitation into a virgin queen's quarters."

He could hear both the mirth in her tone as well as the worry. "It appears my cheekiness is contagious." He returned her amused smile. "I was quite careful, you needn't fear for your reputation, Mary." How her name sounded so sweet on his lips.

"I would be more concerned about your welfare than my own. After all, now that I am so well placed your father is actually determined to have my hand for Francis." She turned back to the view out the window in time to hide her wince. All morning she'd been faced with comments on the truth of that last statement. She decided levity was in order. "He might very well give you your first scolding for any possible tampering with the event."

With eyebrows raised at the friendly challenge in her voice and hands clasped behind his back Bash approached her side, looking out the window just as she. Choosing to ignore her obvious discomfort on speaking about her pending marriage he reverted to his original excuse to see her, a handy one at that as he had been struggling to find one the entire walk to her chambers. "And yet he posts no guards outside your door." Though, secretly he suspected his step-mother of once again calling the guards away. "I will have to speak with him."

It was Mary's turn to raise a brow. She knew quite well he didn't expect his father of any such neglect. "I dismissed them myself." She informed him.

"Why would you do that?" While slight amusement colored his otherwise neutral tone, concern traced his features. As happy as he was to steal these few moments alone with her he always did feel it was part of his duty to see her safe and warn her of danger. "Even without the same need to worry on the English you are still under constant threat from others."

"You needn't remind me of that." She sighed and glanced from the corner of her eye at him, conspiratorially. "If no guards are outside my door no one has any reason to suspect that I am in my chamber, alone."

He turned an examining glance her way. "I hadn't realized you were so capable of scheming, or so desirous of spending your time alone these days."

"Yes, well." She paused, aware her cheeks were flushed as she remembered wondering last night the meaning behind their dance. Was there a meaning? Was it her imagination or had he seemed about to kiss her before the guard broke their embrace? "Your company does not go unappreciated."

Before Sebastian could reply, a bit emboldened by her admission that she enjoys his presence, and while they are alone in her quarters at that, the all too familiar voice of his brother wafted from the opening door of the chamber.

"Mary! Come meet my cousin." Francis paused upon seeing his half-brother and Mary, alone. "Bash, what are you doing in here?" He tried to keep accusation from his tone but was unsure if he was successful.

Sebastian was quick to recover, aware of Mary's near panic that came only through her eyes. "I saw no guards outside of Mary's room. I came to check and see that all was well and was just as surprised as you to find her unprotected." He offered the last sentiment as an excuse for the discomfort for all three of them as well as a pointed reminder of his mindfulness of her welfare exceeding that of his brother at the moment. "I'm happy to report there is nothing of concern in here."

Francis nodded, the rising bile of suspicion momentarily abated. "Come then Mary." He walked between his brother and the queen, separating their conspiratorial gaze and offering her his arm. "I do believe you will enjoy my cousin's company. She has spent many years in the Italian court."

"Yes, alright." She agreed, taking his offered hand. She was well aware of the tension in the room and the level of attention Francis was showing her. While she might be convinced that he even loves her, and that he has always had his eye on her, she was also keenly aware that he no longer showed any of the reluctance he once held on their engagement. She was sure that by the end of Christmastime he would be asking to set a date. Part of her was thrilled, another was reluctant.

As she walked into the gathering of family and nobles and spoke with his cousin, a relation of his mother's from Italy who she found she quite rather liked, she was keenly aware of the eyes on her from a certain friend that always seemed to keep a silent vigil over her welfare. Had it not been for one guessing game with Clarissa, she might not have been aware that she had not one, but two careful eyes always set upon her. Sebastian's were likely for a different reason than Clarissa's, a reason to which she would love to be privy. But alas, if her suspicions were indeed confirmed on the matter she couldn't be sure what she would do with the information. For now, she was a queen with a duty and it took a great deal of her energy to stay focused on the conversations around her.

"Ah, your grace." An Englishman by the name of Thomas Williams to who she had been introduced earlier in her time in the French court greeted her with a bow. "I am once again honored to meet my future queen."

She observed him carefully but found no threat, no hostility towards her as she was accustomed when speaking to the English. Cautiously she addressed him. "Mr. Williams," she began but was instructed to call him Thomas. "Thomas, I must admit to being surprised to hear an Englishman so honored to greet me as his future queen."

Thomas nodded gently in full understanding. "Unlike the previous envoy to this court I am not only a Catholic but have been sent by my queen to replace him with _your_ interests at heart."

"You mean the English queen wishes to keep an account of me." If her tone held disbelief and accusation it was a perfect portrayal of her feelings at the moment. But at least she can now account for the mysterious lack of presence of the former English envoy. That had certainly worried her.

With a slight bow of his head Thomas agreed, becoming quite aware of the intelligence and strength the young Queen exhibited. "Yes, but only in service to you. You are to be our queen, to continue the Catholic faith in our land. It would be irresponsible to not ensure that you are in the highest standard of company and care." Here his eyes darted towards Sebastian who was watching their exchange with interest from a few feet away, most likely within ear shot and it put Mary on edge. She wondered if there was an accusation in his glace towards her friend. "I do understand however that due to the past between our native countries I must endeavor to gain not only your favor but your trust."

Mary tried to remain as calm as possible in her response. While encouraged by his happy manners she was sure there would always be some level of distrust on her part towards the English court, perhaps even after she takes the throne. "As I am sure anyone can tell you, I am most open to the end of hostilities against my person and my country."

"Yes, I have news on that front." He stood closer to her, aware that their conversation was being overheard by the king's bastard son. "I feel I must point out however that I am not here only to serve the French court, but as an advisor to you on English affairs. After all," he paused but under quick examination felt no need to hide his next statement from French ears "Your own country's interests must come before those of a country to which you yet to fully belong or even to your own heart."

"Yes, that is true." Mary looked to her left noticing Francis engaged in an animated conversation with a young noble girl. She recognized her as one of the affairs pointed out to her by Kenna and quickly looked away. He may be more tentative and may have genuine affection for her but Mary knew in her heart the words he once stated so plainly to her were as true as ever. _If you want to be the queen of France you need to learn that Kings do not answer to their wives._ He would likely always stray, of this she was sure. Turning back to her conversation she knew all too well how true her next statement held. "As you will soon learn I keep that same knowledge and advice close to my heart, constantly."

The envoy had followed her gaze and he too was aware of how true that statement must be. In his preparing for this position he spoke with the nuns at the convent where Mary was raised. He knew the importance of love for the queen. "If I may, your grace," he approached the topic delicately. "I would like to express my sincere wish that as your counsel you may always approach me with matters of any concern. What happens here at French court is not for me to report to my own queen. I do hope this allows you to take me into your confidence."

Mary eyed him, aware he too saw Francis and aware he was speaking both in general terms and in terms of the possibility that she need not necessarily honor her engagement to the dauphin. "I assure you, when such matters arise I will endeavor to seek your counsel."

"Then even more the cause for celebration." Thomas replied immediately raising his glass towards her. He had several concerns when sent to serve as the new envoy to this queen. The first of which was that she would, understandably, be weary of him. Truly, he wanted to serve her and her interests. He was fairly young, she would be his queen far longer than his current. Second, he had his concerns on the prospective marriage between Mary and Francis. While most queens learn to cope with the other women their husbands … entertain, regnant queens have a significantly larger burden on their reputation if their husbands stray. In the French court it may mean nothing, but for the English, this has proved to be a true hurdle. His current queen once told him she would rather see a faithful bastard as king consort than a price with a wandering heart. At the very least no one would call into question her ability to lead in that case. If she cannot command the loyalty of a husband how is she to do so with an entire court? Army? Country? This of course was not something appropriate to share at the moment.

Their conversation fell into an uncomfortable silence until Bash took it upon himself to rescue her. "Your grace," he bowed, aware he should refrain from familiarity until he could be sure the new envoy was worthy of Mary's trust. "Might I have this dance?"

Mary smiled gently, grateful for his intercession and glad that he finally asked her to dance in the presence of the rest of court. "I would very much enjoy a dance." She took his hand and turned to Thomas. "Excuse me."

"Of course your grace." He bowed once again. "We will speak of your plans to visit the English court at the end of Christmastime, tomorrow."

She managed to keep the trepidation from her voice though she was sure Sebastian could feel her hand tense and clench his own. "Yes, we will."

Both Mary and Sebastian took a deep but silent breath as they lined themselves up for the dance. There was much to examine in that last statement of the Englishman. On one hand it was encouraging to see that she was being recognized without hesitation by the English court. On the other, there was much to be wary of in terms of the political games beginning to arise between her place in the English line and her current loyalties to the French.

"I feel as though I can't breathe in here much longer." She spoke to Bash in muted tones as the dance began.

"You must have assumed a visit to court would be expected of you." Sebastian hedged. The thought that she needed to meet her future court and subjects had briefly entered his mind earlier in the day while contemplating what all of this would mean for Mary. He had hoped to think of these issues before they arose so that he could do his best as counsel and friend. "I gather that along with Elizabeth, several other Anglican's of the English court were beheaded for their involvement in the plot against the queen. It should be considerably safer for you to travel there now."

"Yes," Mary sighed but somewhat reassured. If nothing else, Bash has always proved to hold her safety of utmost concern. "I did consider that. But just how am I to put an entire lifetime of suspicion and fear behind me in the matter of mere days? I will have no protection of anyone I know to be truly loyal to me there."

Bash turned her in line with the music, waiting until she was facing him yet again to speak "Mary," he begged her attention with his eyes. "I have always had my father's ear. If you wish it, I will persuade him to send French support to accompany you. I don't believe it will take much to convince him that it would be in our best interest to have a French influence present with you in your new country."

It always did strike her that while roguish, no one fully acknowledge how politically capable Bash consistently proved. Mary nodded, taking comfort in the weight of his hands gently resting upon her shoulders as he led their steps. "I suppose you are correct. I simply wonder in whom he would be willing to trust for the task that I could equally have such faith."

He leaned in as called for by the dance. "I do have an idea on that. I would ask your trust to solve the matter on your behalf."

Mary was brief in her thought on that. Bash had truly become her confidant in her time here, if she were to entrust this task to anyone it would be him. Besides, she knew that mischievous twinkle in his eye all too well. She was sure he had some ambitious scheming in mind and if she was honest with herself she was curious to see where it would lead.

"Very well. I thank you for speaking with your father on the matter."

"I am always glad to be of your service, Mary." Sebastian dropped his hands as the music died down, offering her his arm he suggested that they rejoin the festivities and accompanied her towards her friends. Looking to them all he smiled gently. "I will leave your queen to your capable hands." With a bow he took her hand to his lips, eyes locked on Mary's in a tense gaze.

"Enjoy your night Sebastian." She felt her heart thump, aware of Lola and Kenna playing close attention to the scene.

"I wish you just the same, you grace." When he turned from them a smile crept onto his face at the sound of feminine giggles, a sure product of her friends' teasing.

Returning to his father's side, from across the room he could see Francis's stare bore into him and he knew that he had many challenges ahead when it came to his half-brother's inevitable objections to the proposal he planned on issuing to his father in the morning. He was of course the best candidate for accompanying Mary on her journey and stay at English court.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: It is simply lovely to see all the reviews, favorites and alerts. Thank you so very much for the encouragement. I am glad to see so many enjoying the story.

I do not own Reign.

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"Mary, have you news yet of your journey to the English court?" Lola passed a letter from her sister containing some lovely news of a niece to Kenna as they gathered in Mary's room. They needed only their queen to complete her primping before, dressed and prepared for the night, they would journey down the stairs intent on celebrating the night's feast.

"Yes." She replied, amazed that ever since the Colin incident Lola had gained the ability to focus on the events of court even amid the turmoil or merriment emanating from her personal life. "When we spoke of it earlier in the week, Thomas informed me that we set off the day following tomorrow. I am expected to arrive before Epiphany and be gone through Candlemas."

Aylee stood, now finished with Mary's hair. "So soon! Mary, you should have told us earlier than this so that we might have more time to prepare ourselves and your servants." The sentiment was echoed in short succession by each lady.

Here, Mary realized she'd been unclear. She too had assumed her ladies would accompany her but it was thought best, and she admits the wisdom of such thought, that she travel singularly, with a smaller party of only guards and counselors as to attract less attention on her voyage and also so as to immerse herself within the court in England. She needed to open herself to the company of the noble women of her new land in order to win over their hearts and more importantly, their loyalty. Keeping to herself with her own friends would most certainly prevent this and act as insult to the English.

"It is important that we set out as soon as possible seeing as there is much to do in assuring parliament does not move to exclude me from the line of succession." The idea that such a thing might occur surprised none there. The last three days were spent with Mary speaking to her envoy consistently on the potentiality of these political games so common in the English court. After all, the Stuarts were once before removed from the very same in Henry VIII's will. "Thomas has taken over all preparations of my staff. However, you should know all of you are expected to remain at the French court during my absence."

"Not that I am complaining," Greer began opening the door as the party moved out. "of sparing us the journey but how can you go to a new court without your own? Mary, you will have no one of loyalty to you there."

Mary was touched at the devotion she witnessed in her friends. She pushed aside the trepidation she still felt on the matter in an effort to reassure them. "I have a friend at court currently speaking to Henry on the matter of a French counsel and protector to accompany my voyage and stay." That seemed to pacify her friends momentarily and she was glad that soon conversation switched to the expected extension of the visit of the Italian nobles during Mary's absence. She had no desire to explain who this friend speaking on her behalf was or who would likely accompany her journey. On the last issue she herself was greatly worried as she had no word on whether or not there would even be a French presence at her side.

As her other ladies presented themselves to their assigned dignitaries to entertain for the night, Kenna stalled and waited until she found herself alone with Mary for a stolen moment. "You mean Bash, this friend speaking to Henry on your behalf." She glanced at Mary's frozen features, deciding if her queen were to be gone some two months, now would be the time to finally address the issue only she seemed to fully gather.

"I haven't any idea why you would suspect it of him." Mary tried to maintain control of her voice but knew Kenna of all people was perfectly aware of how she felt that moment.

"Mary, I want to be frank with you, as you have me. When you warned me of Henry's attentions I did much to deny and little to listen to your wisdom." She gently turned to her friend by a hand on the queen's shoulder. "Mary, Bash was always known as a flirt. He was known to be roguish and with his father's blessing in of the ability to love freely." When her friend looked away she rushed to finish. "He is not so free anymore. In love or politics I believe he thinks of nothing but you." The words 'unlike Francis' remained known but unspoken.

"Yes," Mary's tone turned sarcastic, a defense from hope that Kenna's implication that Bash truly does have feelings for her is correct. "That is why he has been curiously absent from my company or the celebrations of the court as of late." She had not heard from Bash the entirety of three days and it worried her greatly. It was simply unlike him to not seek out her company at least once a day. He'd even been absent from festivities the whole of the time. She did so hope his speaking to his father on her behalf did not cause some unforeseen consequence. So many have been harmed physically or injured politically in her name. She couldn't bear the same to be said of him.

Kenna remained quiet for a moment and so Mary gained an apologetic tone. "My mind is unsure of how to use the information you have shared. But I do thank you for providing light on the matter."

Her friend nodded, understanding. "Your mind may very well be unclear, but remember there is yet another part of you more suited to the task." She bowed and retreated towards the Italian lord that had caught her eye, aware that Mary could not see who just entered the room on her left.

"For you, your grace." Mary was roused to see Bash's bow and offer of wine. She took it gratefully, sipping to give herself a moment of composure. It was too convenient that Kenna left just then and she was sure that much like herself, Kenna was quite adept at scheming.

She was relieved in seeing him but worried at the small mark healing on his nose. Thinking better of asking what had happened she spoke to him as always. "Back to addressing me as your grace yet again are we?"

Bash so missed her teasing in the past days. Hearing her voice, even muffled among the notes of festive music was soothing to his constitution. "While in our private company Mary and Bash will do, I believe we may need to return to a state of formality while I accompany you to England."

"You're my counsel?" She was unbelieving and entirely hopeful he was not playing a ruse on her. While on one hand Bash being with her for so long, and without Francis, was a simultaneously elating and never wracking prospect he was most certainly the only person she could fully trust to be at her side during the trying experience ahead.

Bash was relieve she seemed excited by the prospect. His smile reached nearer his eyes than since his father gave him a dog on his eighth birthday. "Did you expect I would leave your welfare to anyone else? After all, I am very talented."

Mary was impressed but managed to keep her tone neutral as she turned her gaze back to the crowd. "I am surprised Francis didn't protest. He seemed intent the last days to accompany me and I doubt your father would part with you both in the name of me."

But protest he most certainly did. Just as promised, Bash had gone to his father the morning after speaking with Mary, informing him of the request of the English court for her visit. At first his father wanted to refuse to let her go but Francis helpfully supplied reasoning against that notion. "You cannot keep her from her countrymen." He reminded his father, relieved when Bash joined him in that sentiment.

That relief Francis felt was short lived however when Bash suggested his father appoint someone, someone in whom he and Mary could equally trust to serve as a gesture of French support and counsel in her service. Seeing as the French were currently the primary people in which her care was entrusted, that person would have almost unlimited access to Mary, certainly more so than most English, and may sway any attempts by her new country to sever the alliance.

The prickle of suspicion rose violently against Francis at the suggestion, encouraged and lit on fire by his father's quick decision. "Yes, of course. Bash, would you be willing? I cannot send Francis but it would do for the English to see our commitment to Mary by my sending a son."

Bash had accepted and soon after speaking with his father on a few other matters he found himself walking to his quarters with a deadly silent Francis in tow. The door closed several seconds later than would have allowed a single person entry. "May I help you with something Francis?" he asked without turning around.

Francis walked in front of him, enraged. "I know you and I know your plan. But be warned. You will not have my bride."

"Oh yes, your bride. Are you even sure you know to which woman to that title belongs? As I remember Cicilia Orsini has no claim to the Scottish crown." He supposed it wasn't wise to egg on his brother when he was already is such a state of anger. That supposition held true when he found himself holding a bloodied nose in one hand and catching his fall to the ground with the other.

"I am going to speak with father and share with him my suspicions on your intentions towards Mary." Francis started for the door but stopped when Bash responded.

Getting up, with the help of leverage from a nearby chair Bash ripped a section of his shirt and held it to his face to slow the bleeding. "You do and you will place Mary's reputation on the line by asserting that she would fall to my charms. I am a bastard Francis and while I will not pretend my affections, my…" he refrained from saying love "feelings are of a brotherly nature I should be of no real threat to you unless you truly do ruin her reputation. Even if nothing comes of the accusation and you can miraculously still take her hand with her reputation intact, she will never forgive you for putting it at risk."

Francis stalled and winced, knowing the truth of that statement. If he brings suspicions such as these to light it does nothing to guarantee that Mary would not succumb to her obvious affection for his brother as he knew he was losing her affection himself and would only put the prospect of marrying her into question. He needed to maintain the status quo until her return from England, when he and his father would insist on a wedding date. Then, she could not refuse him and he would be a part of the strongest alliance Europe had seen in decades.

Upon seeing that realization sink into his half-brother, Bash continued. "Do not fear, so long as you do not interfere with my new position I will have no reason to share your discontent. And then you will be free for two months to pursue your other interests without further harm to Mary's confidence in you."

Once again Francis was reminded at just how adept at so many things his elder brother proved. Bash knew quite well that he and Mary were drifting apart and he was taking full advantage of it. The bastard. It did give him some comfort to know Bash would carry a black eye for a few days, but that too could rouse suspicions on his discontent with Bash accompanying his fiancé. "Speak nothing of this to father, Mary or anyone else."

Truly, Bash was in full agreeance on that matter. However, his motivation in not telling Mary was anchored in not wishing her to feel guilt over this conflict and his injury. "I will be much too busy preparing for Mary's protection to be seen in public over the coming days to tell tale of our quarrel or even make notice of it."

Francis left mumbling under his breath but Bash could make it out. "If I didn't still love you my brother I would have your neck." Bash knew that was not some idle threat but took comfort he perhaps had'nt lost his brother forever.

Coming around to the present, Bash quickly covered his pensive recall of the event. "He had been eager to accompany you, yes." Bash finished his wine and gave the cup to a nearby servant. "However reason won out and my father knew the wisdom of not inundating the English with French royalty on your maiden visit."

She eyed him peripherally. "Yes, quite wise indeed."

She stood taller as she noticed Francis watching them. For the last several days he was positively doting upon her. She should feel closer to him. She should feel glowing and alive and surrounded by her love for him. She doesn't. She loved him once, before the mistresses, before the affairs. She loved him when she was here as a child. She came back to court years later and ready to marry him, as a child. Somewhere between then and now she became a woman. She loves him, but her growing wisdom told her it was now as a friend and she is fairly sure she could never love him as more. Bash, however, was different and yet in so complicated a situation did she find them.

Choosing to ignore that sadness due to Bash's illegitimacy, she chose for levity so as to not betray her. "Happy for me then, that you are not royalty."

Bash's roguish smile shrunk wearily. "Happy and sad, yes. All at once."

She turned to reply and issue an apology, aware that must have been an injuring comment, but found him gone and instead Francis's cousin approaching in his place. She truly was fond of the girl. She wondered if she could capture her for service, if she became a permanent member of the French royal family she would be in a place to take on the Italian noble.

She stopped the line of questioning as soon as it began. Entertaining the prospect of marriage with Francis had become the most difficult endeavor to which her mind could contend.

Throughout her night, enjoying the dancing and feasting abound, she would catch glimpse of the tense stares between Francis and Bash. She looked between Francis, remembering the cut on his knuckles and to Bash, the injury almost invisible but still healing on his face and a sinking feeling took over her. Two brothers once so fond of another had come to conflict and it had been over her.

The guilt was exhausting and laid her to sleep earlier this night than any of the last but that sleep was certainly restless. So, she was glad that the first knock on her door that next morning was not so taxing as it would have been if it were Thomas, or Francis or Bash. Rather, it was one of her own Scottish advisors sent by her mother in response to the news of her succession to the English crown and it had been a relief to be with her countryman again.

"Robert. It seems years since I have seen you last."

"Indeed my grace." Robert bowed slightly and joined Mary in sitting by the fire. The morning was cold and it seemed, according to the scholars, that a large storm was likely due to fall in the near future. "Your mother wishes to express her love," he handed her a letter for her later perusal. "And she wishes to express her joy in the change of events between the English and our country."

"Yes. Much has changed as of late. I do apologize that the urgency of such has taken you from your Christmastime celebrations."

"It is with true pleasure that I come to serve you here for this reason. So little often do I see your face without worrying about the knife about to plunge into your back."

"Yes, a relief to all I know." Though Mary was sure both she and Robert know that was most certainly not the case. "But do tell me, have military hostilities ceased in Scotland?"

Robert walked over to a large table in the room, gesturing for her to join him as he set out a map. "Here," he pointed to a border line "The English troops have camped just inside our borders however all other action seems to have stalled. We believe, as our envoy into the English court reports, that Mary Tudor has changed her focus on Scotland. Now that you are heiress presumptive to the throne, and her death is ever the more likely," here Mary interrupted him.

That was most certainly news to her. "More likely? How so?"

"The poison cannot be cured. Her life is extended some many months but make no mistake of it, all in the English court are aware that you shall be crowned within the coming year."

Mary nodded understanding. "So, now that the threat of a Scottish uprising is significantly diminished, she wishes to alter our politics?"

Robert pointed to his map. "She wishes to take her efforts at the eradication and suppression of Protestants into the Scottish territories. Your mother has barely managed to keep peace between the factions. If you could convince Mary to relinquish English troops to your command, and therefore your mother's, while in Scotland, this endeavor would prove invaluable to both countries as well as to the faith."

Mary eyed that last sentence with suspicion. "And if I cannot convince her of such a thing?"

"Your mother is likely to consider their remaining on our soil an act of aggression against our people and against your rights both English and Scottish. We, myself and Thomas Williams, your English envoy, believe she will seek French support in suppressing it."

"You have been speaking on this with Thomas?"

"Only out of his concern over the matter. I must say, I do believe he truly has your best interests at heart, your grace."

That proved a glowing endorsement of Thomas if even Robert, a man once recalled from a mission to the English court for having directly insulted Edward VI, can entrust his loyalty to and Englishman. "Alright." She turned back to the pertinent subject at hand. "Why would my mother not simply accept the English assistance in eradicating the protestant factions?"

"As your grace is aware," he supplied to assuage her ego, in knowledge that his queen was left thoroughly ignorant of such things. "The stability of Scotland is precarious. If they were to move without your or her authority a great danger would be placed on our internal politics. Therefore, she would need to request assistance from the French."

She sighed, having been in such a position before with Henry. "They will refuse us armies, yet again."

"And when they do, your mother will recall you home." The importance of this was not lost on her. Robert was correct in his assumption that her mother would ask her home if the alliance with France were to prove fruitless, particularly now that she appeared safe from the English.

Yet another task of importance had then been issued for her to accomplish in her time at English court, in addition to all the others. If she does not win over Mary Tudor on the matter, her time at court, her time with Francis, Clarissa, _Bash_ would come to an end just as the onset of French hostilities between the Scottish - and English - would surely begin.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Again, it is lovely to see all the positive feedback to our story. Your reviews are so very much appreciated!

I do not own Reign.

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"Clarissa?" Mary ventured a few feet into the passageway connected to her room, thankful the early morning was still bright enough to allow her some sight into the dark stone chamber despite the overcast of the day. "I want to say goodbye." She waited patiently, relieved when she heard footsteps coming nearer. "I leave in a short time to England and I want to thank you for all you have done."

A marble rolled to her feet and looking back into her room to be sure none of the party awaiting to escort her out of the castle had entered her chamber to witness, she rolled it back, willing to play Clarissa's guessing game. "Do you think I will be safe there, in England?"

The marble rolled to her foot and she smiled, knowing that was a yes. "It is hard to believe that is the case without you Clarissa." She rolled the marble back down the stone floor, wondering if she was brave enough to ask her next question. "Clarissa. Was it Francis that harmed Bash? Did Francis throw the first strike?"

She winced, remembering she was only supposed to ask one question at a time but once again two marbles came to hit her foot. Her frown grew deeply. Nothing is worse than when one's suspicions are confirmed and she certainly didn't like the idea of Francis becoming so violent. There was only one thing that could excuse such behavior in her mind and while she doubted it, she had to ask. "Is there any reason I should not trust Bash?"

This time, nothing came back to her. She can trust Bash. This she knew but it was always comforting to have Clarissa's agreement on the fact. More than anyone, she was sure, Clarissa would know in whom Mary should entrust. She was going to ask one more question, ask if Bash had retaliated, but she ran out of opportunity.

She stood to begin her retreat, hearing a knock upon her door but paused to issue a final goodbye. "If I do not return to this court, know that I have trusted you more than anyone and I am in your debt."

Just as she was at the precipice of reentering her room she felt a gentle hand come to rest between her shoulder blades. She knew better than to turn around, lest her benefactor mysteriously vanish. "Clarissa? Do you have a warning for me?"

"Danger lurks not at journey's end but on your ship. Care for him." The hand left and quickly Mary turned around to find a potion lying at her feet. "Care for who?" she yelled, her voice echoing on the stone walls. "Clarissa! Is it Bash? Should I worry for Bash?" She knew however that her friend was gone.

"Mary, did you call for me?" Bash opened her door, dressed and eager to set out on their voyage. Francis had thankfully taken refuge in the bed of Cicilia Orsini the last two nights and he needed only to survive what was sure to be an awkward goodbye before he would soon have the freedom that came with being Mary's chief confidant.

"No, no." She gathered her wits and closed the passage door from behind the dressing curtain. Taking Clarissa's potion, she slipped it into her bodice wondering of what purpose it served. Perhaps it was intended for the fast healing of a wound or perhaps it was meant to kill the person trying to potentially harm someone on the ship, someone who may be Bash.

She couldn't be sure but she did know that if Clarissa wished her to have it she personally wanted it on her person at all times. "I am just finishing my dressing for our journey." She came around to him, aware he didn't believe her from the look in his eyes. "Are we ready to set out?"

Bash eyed her, wondering what had her so struck that the very occasional flush to her cheek lit upon her face. Perhaps it was the idea that she had been still in a state of undress according to her excuse (he would give her the benefit of not calling her bluff) and yet he too was in her room. "Yes, but the weather is turning wild. Your cloak may help keep out the chill." He held the garment for her and after some hesitation on her part, assisted her in draping it over her shoulders and fastening it on her front.

She was so deep in thought on Clarissa's warning that she was barely aware of leaving her chamber or of her goodbyes to her friends, Francis and his parents. Was it truly Bash that she was warning on? Who would want to harm him? Perhaps Clarissa meant another man on her journey but then, why did she not name anyone? For her, the only person so singular as to be conjured by her warning was Bash. She wondered if Clarissa knew that. She wondered if that meant something.

Her worry was all consuming. Truly, she was only brought to the present when already in her carriage, the woods all she could see from her vantage.

"Mary, are you alright?" Bash felt a distinct pang of worry for her distracted nature though found some encouragement in her seeming to reclaim her senses. "I asked if you thought the snow was beautiful, just as I do."

She looked about, the realization that snowflakes were falling now setting upon her. "I do." She wondered at how much more beautiful snow fell, more elegant than even feathers. "I apologize; I simply worry about our journey in this weather."

Bash reached forward for her hand in an effort to console her. As her French counsel, he was to be at her side the entirety of the journey and alone for a lot of it at that, seeing as her other advisors were in the carriage behind them. He was thankful to steal any time alone with her, particularly when he can use said time to calm her nerves and show his worthiness of her trust. "I am told that we shall make it to our ship well before sundown and arrive during the night tomorrow." He rubbed her thumb with his own. "The sea may be rough but our ship's captain assures me of a safe passage."

Not even the rush she felt from his hand embracing her own saved her from her next thought. _'Safe from sea, perhaps.'_ She contemplated sharing the warning Clarissa issued to her but thought better of it. Knowing Bash, he would only become more protective of her and likely bring even more danger upon himself. She realized too that if she didn't try to gather herself and her wits she would tip him off that something was wrong and that she couldn't do. He would directly ask her what was the matter and she would not lie to him. So, she pushed it aside for now. "Thank you, Bash. That does soothe me greatly."

He was warmed by the calmness seeming to settle around her, put there by him. But he did notice a chill run through her when a wind picked up and with that he set into action. "Mary," he felt her face, noting how cold she seemed. "We must keep you warm. Here," he moved to sit beside her. Pulling her under his arm and resting her face into his chest, he wrapped his outer cloak around her head and handed the rest for her to cover her body. "Take this and cover your hands. You are wasting too much energy on your worry. Rest. I will keep you warm and safe."

The care and concern in his voiced touched her heart acutely. She knew the truth in all he stated and despite the racing of her pulse at being in his close embrace she found profound comfort in it as well. "Thank you, Bash." She sighed deeply, already feeling the spell of sleep come over her weary mind. "Perhaps this journey will be pleasant after all."

She fell asleep before she heard his reply and woke several hours later when he brought her about as their ship came into view.

He had been sad to see it in all honesty. He would have been content on holding her there, being the object of her embrace, for years. But he knew he had months away with her, months in which they could get closer. Months that may meet him with nothing more than eventual heart break, but he would be certain to cherish moments such as these just the same. "Mary, we are almost there. It would be best to wake now."

She lifted her head from the safety of his arms and looked out the carriage window to see the winter coastline and her ship approaching. Her anxieties about the ship began to return to her as Bash simultaneously returned to the seat opposite her own, a sure sign that soon the carriage would stop and once again they would be in the public light.

She was so reluctant for that public light. So seldom does she get any time alone. So seldom does that time include Bash. It was so unfair for life to provide moments such as these when her situation prevented their consistent repetition. She sighed, weary from it all. "I do so wish this ride took longer."

Aware at how that may have sounded she scrubbed the sleep from her face and noticed him watching her. "What?" She asked embarrassed at her state, trying to fix the locks of hair come out of place when he had removed the cloak from her head.

"It is nothing." He paused with his rueful smile displayed, reaching forward and tucking the last stray lock behind her ear. How he wished she would allow him to do this every day. "I was simply realizing how beautiful you are upon waking, your grace."

She felt her chest restrict in the complement and the realization of his addressing her formally suddenly made sense. He does so to cover his boldness otherwise. "Is it much different from my beauty the rest of the day?" She suddenly felt awfully bold herself upon noticing his raised brow.

He leaned only slightly forward as the carriage stopped. "Only in that it is so special to see that which others do not get the chance." He clarified before she could respond. "You are so seldom relaxed enough to be seen in any state of disarray. But it certainly becomes you."

A guard opened the carriage door and Bash got out, holding his hand to assist her exit. Upon setting foot to the snowy soil Mary regained her composure from the moment and once again was greeted by Robert and Thomas, all four being escorted by guards to the boats at the shore line.

She climbed into the boat ashore, with assistance from a guard and Bash, and settled into her seat knowing her fun was over and her work was about to begin.

Just on time with that thought, Robert began addressing the business of the day. "Does your grace have any urgent opinions she would care to share on the matter you discussed on the journey here?"

The boats set out and Mary looked to Bash in askance. "I am unsure of what matter we were to be discussing."

Thomas was surprised at that to be sure. Bash had seemed so insistent on accompanying her he would have thought it was to try and sway her opinion before Robert and he had the opportunity to do so as well. "What on earth were you discussing then, for so many hours?"

Mary and Bash both stole a glance to one another but he recovered first. "The weather of course. Mary is awfully fond of snowflakes." Upon seeing the unbelieving looks of his counterparts, looks that spoke the words 'you are poor counsel' he became slightly defensive. "I thought it best that due to Mary's weariness of the journey, and the absence of you both, we wait until on board to begin."

"Yes," Mary was quick to come to his aid. "I wish you all to speak with me on matters of politics, together if at all possible. I care too greatly about all three countries involved to favor any one opinion over others."

Bash contemplated how well Mary handles complex situations. She turned something awkward and perhaps even suspicious on his part into something entirely in her favor. He knew the concerns of the Scottish counsel and English envoy. They were concerned, just as he, that their efforts would meet with little success in serving the queen. There was much competition among them for her ear but with her simple proclamation, picking up the strain of truth in his own, he was sure the other two men were reassured of their equal footing.

The boats reached the ship and once secured he began in assisting Mary on board, deciding he shall take the trip first. "I would like it known to all here," he began as he stepped off the boat and onto the deck of the ship. "That my service here is not to France but to Mary. I wish only to give her the advice, opinion and assistance of France in all her endeavors at English court."

Mary took his offered hand and looked into his eyes and saw only truth there as she climbed aboard. Mary was genuinely surprised in that, more so when the sentiment was echoed by Thomas. Robert of course was in service to her as a Scotsman, she needn't worry on him.

With all on board she looked to them. "I do thank you all." She replied, gladly accepting the assistance of Thomas's proffered arm as they ventured below deck to find their berths. "I would like to meet with you three in the galley shortly to discuss whatever this matter may be over dinner."

They all agreed and after several minutes of settling into their respective berths all met at the galley, Mary seated at the head of their table. "Now, what is this great matter?"

"As your grace is aware," Robert began gently. "The factions within Scotland are quarreling incessantly. The Scottish Protestants have heard news of the possible spread of Mary Tudor's suppression efforts into our boarders under your authority."

Here Mary stopped him. "Do we know the source of their information?" It would be prudent to cut the source of information off at the neck, seeing as there were enough internal issues plaguing Scotland without adding yet more from the English.

Thomas looked regretful. "Thus far no one in court appears to have any suspicion. It is likely a servant is spreading rumor but attempts at discovering the source have met with ill success."

Mary thought on that as their meal of sole and vegetables was delivered to the galley. She was relieved to note that their plates were being tasted by one guard each. With one less thing to worry on, she turned her attention back to the problem in Scotland. "I assume then that we suspect an internal rising against me and therefore my mother."

Bash so did hate to hear the resigned aspect of her tone and the casualness of her commencing their meal. She lived so long as the target of ploys, plots and threats it seemed second nature for her to be in danger. He hoped he could be of some assistance in ending that trend. "We simply wish to prepare you that after a shorter time at court than otherwise expected, you may have to ask for English support and troops in securing your position. France is ill prepared at the time," here he looked somewhat disappointed in his own people "to send men in any speedy manner. English troops are already afoot your borders. We learned of the situation last night and among us three, we all agree that the English forces may be your best choice."

Mary's eyes filled with fear as Bash's word sunk into her conscience. Time was of the essence. "So it would be that quick to raise a rebellion then?" Upon seeing the confirmation from all three of her advisors Mary's mind turned to her response. "Thomas, is it likely that the English are yet prepared to act on this matter in haste? Before we set ashore?"

Thomas sighed, weary of the politics his land now faced. "I wish I could report to the contrary but I do not believe so, no. Years of conflict between our nations still play heavy on the minds of many. I am sorry your grace, but it appears you must try to sway opinion in your favor."

"Or I will lose all hope of retaining the loyalty of my people and suppressing a rebellion from some of the same." She looked to them all and she knew how very difficult her situation now presented itself. She must not only gain control over the English troops in Scotland but must be able to do so in the effort of repressing a rebellion, an effort many English may not be so keen to support. Gaining control now would prove even more difficult than she first imagined. Now, her own country, her position in England and her relations with France were all on the line equally. And all she could do is try to win over the hearts of many so eager to see her defeat.

Bash signed internally. He wished so dearly that relations between Scotland and France weren't so precariously balanced at the moment. He knew quite well that her alliance with France was part of the problem many in England had with her taking their throne. He wished Mary were just a girl and he a simple man. He wished to see anything but her in such a state of compromise. "Precisely."

"I understand." Mary delicately blotted her mouth with her napkin and stood to leave. "If you will excuse me, I have much to contemplate."

"Your grace." Both Thomas and Robert stood as well, bowing to her as she made her exit.

Bash followed her closely, finding her just outside the galley door, leaning against the wall for support. "You are not alone here." He echoed his words of long ago, hoping this time she understood his meaning.

"I have you, yes I know." She tried to regain control of herself. "I have always had to live each day for my country, choose every friend for their alliance or support, save you." She looked to his eyes, seeing nothing but genuine affection. So seldom did emotions such as those turn onto her. "Bash, do you think I can do this? I can see it on Robert's face that he doubts me."

Bash offered her his arm in order to escort her back to her berth, thinking on that. He had seen the doubt there too. He wondered what ran through the mind of the Scotsman as to have so little faith in his queen.

Once at their destination he turned to her. "Robert may have been your advisor for long but he knows little of your spirit." He gently tilted up her chin with his finger so her eyes met his. "You are much more capable than any man may give you credit." He sucked in a steeling breath. "If there is someone needed to capture a cold heart, I can say honestly that I am glad the task falls to you."

She wondered if the heart he was truly speaking of were his own. Kenna's words echoed in her mind and she thought she may just see it there, his affection, perhaps even his love.

Her eyes darted to his lips and he knew that if he wanted right now he could simply bend to claim hers. He so wanted to engage her in a loving kiss. But this is not how it should happen, not while she was afraid, not while she was vulnerable. "You must rest, Mary. You may think on all this in the morning. Clearer heads do so often prevail."

She pulled her body back from his spell and looked to her door. She wondered if yet again he would have kissed her. If she were just a girl and he a simple man, perhaps. "Is that your berth, next to mine?" She wondered aloud, for she had nothing else to say. But she did so wonder. If he were next to her, perhaps she could rest more soundly on her worry about the danger that may face him in the night. Suddenly, her trepidation on the English seemed to pale in comparison at the reminder.

Bash noticed her worry increase. "Yes, it is. If for any reason you need me you need only knock on your wall." He opened her door for her. "Worry not. All you must do is put your head on your pillow. Sleep will follow."

She looked back and him and wished him a good night before doing as she was told and lying upon her bed.

But sleep did not come.

Lying awake, she worried on so many an issue she couldn't be sure how late the night now ran. She contemplated the situation in Scotland and her challenges ahead at court but mostly, she wondered on Clarissa's warning.

She was most certain that Clarissa must have meant Bash. Mary had just been speaking of him, just asking her concern about who had harmed him. She knew that Clarissa trusted Bash and she too knew that he truly was her most trusted friend. Yes, it was certain. For whatever reason, none coming to mind at the moment, Bash was in danger and she was supposed to care for him.

Having come to that conclusion solidly, she turned her attention to what dangers lay on the ship that could harm him further. Unless the method of danger was overt, which she doubted based upon the number of guards on the ship she knew to be loyal, the only true danger would be poison. Attacking him in his sleep could rouse too much noise in such close quarters and of course several men would be needed for any other type of assault. So she was sure of it. Poison it must be. But how is it that someone could poison Bash when just as she, he only ever ate and drank that which was tasted by a guard?

Suddenly a terrible thought emerged. What if the guard that was in charge of tasting his food was in on the plot? What if he was the perpetrator of it and therefore also had an antidote and so could drink or eat the poison freely? What if the potion was meant as an antidote and she should have given it to him before? He could be in danger right now. He could be dead.

Ripping off her bed coverings she darted out of her berth, checking that the potion remained securely in her bodice just as before and rushed to Bash's quarters. By the light of her candle she could barely make out his face until she got closer and then she could see it. His eyes were wide and awake and yet he remained unmoving. The paling of his complexion, the gasping of his breath, the blue of his otherwise perfect lips were signs that he had been successfully poisoned. If she failed to act now, as she should have before, he would surely die.

Rushing quickly to sit at his side on the bed, she slipped the potion from her bodice and poured it into his mouth, coaxing it down is throat. "Please, Bash. Drink. Please." She urgently begged of him. She tried to think of why someone would do this, why someone would hurt a man so dear to her. "Come back to me, Bash. Drink. Please." She watched as his eyes lit in recognition of her but he remained unable to speak. She watched his continued struggle to breathe, to move or to drink as she asked until the liquid finally slid down his swollen throat. All she could do now was try to comfort him and hope, and pray.

She spoke reassuringly to him, telling him that this would work and that he would be laughing with her again soon. But all the while she worried on it and began a prayer that may very well have lasted an eternity as she held his still limp body in her arms. She dearly hoped this was what Clarissa intended for the potion's use and she hoped, more so than anything she had ever hoped for before, that she had reached Bash in time to save him.


	5. Chapter 5

I hope you all enjoy this chapter. FYI, there is still much to this story yet to be said. Thank you for sticking with me and thank you for your reviews.

I do not own Reign.

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"Mary!" Bash called about in worry, his movements as frantic as his body would allow upon first awakening. "Are you hurt?" He found her face with his hands, his vision still clouded. He couldn't be sure if this were real. His memories were fragmented. One minute he is thinking of how greatly he worries for her, his certainty that he loves her, and the next he is overcome with the realization that he is having trouble breathing. He felt and heard, rather than saw, Mary's intervention. Then, he was gone. But apparently she rescued him successfully.

Hearing his voice finally speak to her was wondrous. She had thought she had lost him several times throughout the day and night. Each moment was heart break. She knew too greatly now how very much she loved him. She had allowed herself the freedom to feel it all for those moments and now that he was alive for sure part of her felt like she was losing him all over again in having to rein it in.

"I was never in danger, Bash." Mary chokingly replied, so very overwhelmed with the knowledge that even though _he_ was the one poisoned his worry rested on her wellbeing. "You, however, gave me quite the scare."

She began to wipe the hair from his eyes and he reveled in the sensation of her soft fingers upon his skin. Perhaps he should be injured more often if it meant she would touch him freely, with such care. "What happened?" Weary, he tried to keep his tones even but met with ill success.

"You were poisoned. I had an antidote and gave it to you." She paused, wondering just how much information he was capable of taking in at the moment. "We are unsure on the details of the plot against you. Once your breathing began to steady I called for a guard and we found your meal taster dead in his bunk. He had a vial next to him, but according to the first mate, who smelled the potion I gave you, his was likely tampered with."

She decided to neglect to include the most disturbing of all information she learned thus far. The vial containing the poison had been found near the food stores. It was one, unique in its construction, that she herself had given to Francis long ago. He was suspect and she knew full well that if it were truly he to plot against his own brother not only could she not marry him, she could never let Bash return to his native land and the alliance would fall.

She was glad for Bash's response, lest she be dragged further into those terrible thoughts.

"I thought you were an angel." He stated, before his mind could filter his thoughts. "I thought I was dead."

So close have many plots come to Mary and yet, she was never so near to death as this man she cared for so greatly. That knowledge, coupled with the potential motives that came to her mind for Francis attempting such a thing took hold of her heart with great pain. She was the cause of this all. "You did almost pass but I was quite insistent you not go." She paused, hoping some humor might cheer him. As greatly as guilt had surely come to claim her she knew her efforts were best served in caring for his spirit. "I am glad to see what an obedient subject you can be when it is in your best interest."

Despite how awful he felt and the need to keep his eyes closed as they stung terribly, a smirk rose to his lips. Even with the multitude of negative emotions emanating from her, she still could have such an attitude about her when she wished. "My cheekiness truly has infected you. I must admit I am proud of that fact."

"Yes," she adjusted herself on his bed, a bit closer so that she could comfortably hold his hand. His grasp steadily grew tighter and she was encouraged by the sign of health. "You would be proud of that, wouldn't you?"

"I am proud to have any effect on you whatsoever, your grace."

If only he knew in how so many ways he has come to affect her. "Are you quite comfortable? Shall I get you anything? Some water perhaps?"

Bash did feel an awful thirst and accepted the offer of water, which she gently gave to him by lifting the cup to his mouth and his head to reach it. "How is it I am so fortunate as to have a queen be my nurse?"

Mary looked back towards the door of the berth, aware guards stood outside. Just some fourty minutes or so prior she had very much the same discussion with Robert. He seemed awfully displeased and shaken with all of the incident but most especially in her refusal to leave Bash's side. It seemed at that moment Mary found no manner in which to hide how ardently she felt for the king's son. And honestly, she was glad for the moment. Otherwise she might be so overcome right now she wouldn't be stopped from revealing all to Bash now that he lay awake.

"I can be quite insistent, you know. Stubborn really. You are here in my service Bash and whatever the plot against you, I am sure I am the cause of it."

He knew she was trying to hide it, but the hurt in her voice came through. He did so hate to hear pain come to her in any form. The knowledge that she was so insistent, however, spoke to something deep within him. Perhaps she might have some feelings, something ardent in her manner that may compare to the love he was once sure was felt solely on his own. But he needn't ask now, weary as she was.

"What time is it?" He asked, finding a topic which should be safe.

"It is nearly midnight, almost a full day from my finding you." She recounted the event and it sent a shiver down her spine. She owed so very much to Clarissa for her warning and instruction. Whether or not she ever came back to French court she was sure she must find some way of thanking her. "We are anchored near shore, waiting until the morning to transport you when a doctor will come to see to your care. According to the emissary we sent ahead to speak with him, it was thought best to keep you in place until he could come in his carriage."

"I am sorry to delay your arrival." He opened his eyes and her image came clearer to him. She looked as if she had no rest since she found him. Even more so than before, the level of her care for him struck upon seeing the shadows behind her eyes. "Mary, when did you sleep last?" She was beautiful as ever, but she needed to be at her best for the morning. She would make her first introduction to the English court tomorrow and she needed to impress at first meeting if there were to be any hope of her accomplishing the many tasks at hand.

"Do not worry for me." She replied, aware he was about to start an argument. He always had the same tone when about to push her into doing something she didn't want to do if it was in the interest of her own welfare.

He knew what that reply meant, she slept not since she found him. It was so like her, caring and self-sacrificing. When would she ever learn to care for herself first? "Mary, you must rest."

She took an extra blanket from the foot of his bed and unfolded it onto him. "According to the doctor you are not to be left alone and seeing as how you were injured in my service I will stay with you. I know not who to trust on the ship."

He certainly was not about to complain of her company. Her holding his hand, taking care of him was all that kept him from feeling as though death were still certain in his position. And if she were willing to take guard over him, so be it. She was unlikely to hear of anything suggestion otherwise. "If you wanted to spend time with me you didn't have to wait for an excuse such as this."

She raised her eyebrows, glad to see his cheekiness return in full force. "Be grateful I stay at all. An accusation such as that might ruin a young queen."

He turned a sincere gaze her way. "I wouldn't ever let anything ruin you Mary. Reputation or otherwise." He breathed out, trying to maintain his composure. Only this woman has ever made him bare his heart so openly. "So, come rest. If you won't leave my side then the compromise between our positions is to rest beside it."

Mirth, as well as copious amounts of hesitation, grew within her. He offered her something she dearly wanted but knew how risky a proposition it were, even as innocent as it was sure to be with his current constitution. "I thought you just said you would never let anything ruin my reputation."

To be honest with herself there was a great temptation in both his offer as well as in marking herself as impure. Perhaps if she weren't so virtuous no royal would want her. Perhaps she would be freed from the prison that was her marital destiny. But she knew she was neither brave enough, or selfish enough to act so carelessly.

Bash understood her, aware any intended flippancy of her tone was lost to her quite valid concerns of propriety. "Perhaps I should save my nefarious plots for when I am more able to accomplish them." He teased and was glad to hear her giggle of a response. It must take a considerable amount of trust in him to not question his motives. "Will you stay then just until I fall asleep and go, please, to find yourself rest?"

Mary nodded her agreement and propped herself against his headboard, sitting closely beside him. "May I sing you a song the nuns used to console me?"

Bash smiled to her and rolled his head to the side in order to watch her lips form each word she sang. He didn't believe he would ever truly get over her loveliness, her free spirit. If he never came to bleed over her physically, as his mother once warned, then he was sure his heart would do so anyhow of its own accord.

His last thought before falling to the call of sleep was of how very much it was like his luck to have his heart belong to the one woman fully unreachable to him.

Mary quieted her tones as she heard his breath fall softer into sleep. She was so tired but could not leave him. Throughout the day she had a great deal of time, between reports of the dead guard and issuing the request for the doctor, to think on many matters.

Her mind was so burdened and without Bash she found it quite difficult to make sense of it all. She knew it before but it wasn't until now, without him, that she realized just how significantly she relied on his counsel.

Yawning, she looked to the man on her left. "You are so beautiful while you sleep." She murmured as she tucked the blankets on his side.

She knew her feelings ran deeper than she was likely to admit to herself now that he was on the mend. She couldn't allow it. Even if she decided against marrying Francis and therefore breaking the alliance with France, she wouldn't be able to take Bash as a consort. Would he even want her so permanently? She couldn't be sure. She did think he felt something, some passion for her. But to what extent was not for her to determine.

She lowered herself onto the pillow besides him, promising herself she would leave soon but needing just a stolen moment resting by his side. She could stay here. It felt like her home, the very same sense she had when wrapped in his arms in the carriage, the same sense she feels every time they dance. But home was supposed to be the one place you belong, not the place one could lose everything to reach. How dearly she wanted to cry…

"You must wake, your grace. Speedily will do." Thomas's voice roused her and she realized the light of day was cast upon her and Bash who lay by her side. "You fell asleep during your watch." Thomas supplied the explanation and she knew he did so purposely so as to keep suspicion from his voice.

Looking at him, his hand reaching to assist her exit from Bash's bed, she could see what she hoped was true loyalty. "I beg you're discretion." She stated, but it came out as a question too.

"In what?" Thomas replied. He would give his future queen no reason to doubt him. Besides, a guard was outside the door and the less that was stated, the better. "Certainly that chair has become quite uncomfortable by now, your grace." His voice rose to the level of being overheard with a pointed look to her, begging her understanding.

He needn't beg too hard. Mary was perfectly aware of how this looked, how it could affect her reputation. She was glad for any chance to change any assumption a guard could make on her extended visit, alone, in a man's chambers. "Indeed it has. I would thank you to be sure our carriage is well suited to comfort for the remainder of our journey."

Together, after one last look by Mary to Bash's now waking form, they left the berth and made their way towards her own. "Thomas, please hold a moment. I wish to discuss our meeting the English queen." She instructed and the guard posted at her door closed it, leaving the two to speak privately.

"Before your grace begins." Thomas approached her, his voice at a minimum. "You needn't worry. I assume no wrong and even if I did, I once told you that you may place your confidence in me."

She nodded, grateful for his understanding. "I thank you for that."

Here he bowed to her, grateful he was the one to find her in such a state. A guard would spread rumor. Robert was unlikely to watch his tongue, anger being so large a part of his character. Discretion was Thomas's own personal talent and it served him wisely in times such as these. Perhaps his future queen would be able to begin the process of trust as a result. "It is a duty, your grace. But your gratitude is well appreciated." He turned the tide of conversation upon hearing the crews yelling above. "We shall soon disembark."

"Good." She let out a soft breath. "This has been far too eventful of a journey for me to say I would miss it."

Thomas agreed with her fully. They set about their business and soon found themselves being transported towards shore, the doctor awaiting their arrival plainly seen. "Your grace may wish to ride in the doctor's carriage after he finishes his preliminary examination." Thomas offered once on shore, aware the young queen was still heavily reluctant to leave her counsel, her friend's side. "It shall provide the most comfort and perhaps he may be of assistance in determining some of the details we have thus far been unable to gather in the nature of the plot."

Mary wondered if they could really say much about their details. A bottle of poison, a bottle she and others knew to be owned by Francis was the weapon of choice. Other than that there appeared no evidence. She was sure all had come to the same conclusion. "Will you not speak of your suspicions openly?"

Robert came upon them and gave his respectful bow. "_I_ will speak plainly of my suspicions, your grace." He turned to Thomas. "If I may."

"By all means." Thomas replied, wanting nothing to do with the issue of accusation sure to come from Robert.

She turned around to see the last of the boats arrive on land. A guard and a servant carried the stretcher containing Bash quickly to the doctor's carriage. She wondered how soon she would get to see him, if his condition were going to improve. The potion worked in saving his life but still so sickly he remained. She wanted nothing but to be at his side right now, but knew she had business to attend and would do so until the doctor's examination was complete.

Turning to his queen, once her attention came back unto him and not the distraction of her counsel meeting the doctor, the Scottish advisor eagerly shared his opinion. "As your grace is aware, the vial containing the poison was owned by the dauphin of France, your fiancé. There has been some rumor as of late that the prince suspects his half-brother of harboring a deep affection for you. It is believed the injury Sebastian sustained just prior to his removal from society for three days was at the hand of Francis for this very reason."

Mary wondered just how it seemed so many knew of this business when she only learned of it through her own suspicions and confirmation from Clarissa. Perhaps others needed only their own suspicions to come to conclusions, confirmation superfluous. "I will stop you now before you say something which you may later come to regret. While I do certainly wish to pursue the matter and take all you have said under consideration, we must have more information in hand before accusations may begin to arise, particularly among royals to which we are allied."

Robert appeared taken aback by her halt of his explanation but did come to understand as he reviewed his discussion with her in Bash's chambers. She cared for him too, and if word got out on such account her reputation, as Francis having a more solid reason to seek to rid of his brother, would be placed on the line as well. He hadn't considered this before. "Wise indeed, your grace. My apologies."

"None are necessary." She excused him. "If we are quite finished here I would ask to be left to the doctor's carriage."

Robert and Thomas both bowed to her and after Robert turned to leave, Thomas was quick to escort her to the carriage in question. "We haven't many resources for investigation, your grace, but know you are not alone in trying to discover the depth of the plot against your friend."

Mary was thankful to him, and expressed the sentiment. Investigating murder plots of a Frenchman was not one of Thomas's official responsibilities. Of course, neither was keeping the knowledge of her inappropriate night with Bash so close to chest either.

She climbed into her seat in the oddly shaped carriage. The back side lay flat with a seat supporting the stretcher leaving room for one person on each end perpendicular to Bash. Yet again, she found herself beside him and reached out her hand to soothe the lines that seemed to form on his young face. "Is he in pain?" She asked of the doctor sitting across from her as they took off.

"Some, your grace." The doctor was stricken by the level of care the young queen exhibited. He was given the impression, as was popular by many of the middle class, that she was a solitary figure but her attention and focus on her counsel spoke otherwise to him. "I have given him a tincture to assist in sleeping the way to Hunsdon. There he will be in the best of our care."

Mary withdrew her hands reluctantly from Bash and into her lap. She needn't give any more fuel to the fire of rumor she was sure burned brightly on Sebastian's supposed feelings for her. If even Robert, a man self admittedly quite inept in all manners of the heart, got word of such a thing then the spread of it could have reached as far as English court as well.

"Have you any idea what type of poison it were?" Limited her resources may be, she would ask assistance of anyone she could find knowledgeable enough to provide.

"Indeed, I do. Based upon the antidote given," One he would not ask as to how the queen came to have so handily. "I can say with certainly the antidote was of a French seashore plant." Here he paused when the queen's eyes fluttered closed, aware the current suspicion rest upon the dauphin of France. "However, I feel I must point out that the only effective poison this potion would combat is of Scottish origin."

Mary's eyes immediately flicked to the doctors. "Scottish? Are you sure?" If the poison were Scottish then perhaps it was not a French plot after all. Perhaps the French guard acted under the direction of some Scotsman wishing to see the end of the alliance with France now that she was to have the English crown and their support became unnecessary. In fact, severing the alliance with France would likely only strengthen her position in England.

"Indeed I am, your grace." He leaned forward, aware the Scottish queen was eager for more detail. "I cannot say with certainty if the conspirator of your plot be Scottish, but I can say he must have access by someone from the land. This poison," he held out the vial that had contained it, contemplating all he knew. "Has been wanted by many in this country but no Scotsman, compromised tradesman or otherwise will part with it. It is too dangerous. It could be used against _you_."

Mary shuddered at the thought. "Then we may assume the likelihood of Scottish involvement is high?"

"We may so assume." The doctor sighed out, hoping to not offend the queen as he began to nod off.

That confirmation gave Mary much to think on for the rest of the now silent journey. It could most certainly still be Francis. There were plenty of Scottish contacts that he came across on a daily basis. He could have gotten the poison from one of his spies, the spies which she pretends not to know of for the sake of the alliance. But it is that very alliance that is called into question by the plot.

It is unlike Francis to risk so much politically for a matter of the heart. And truly, while she is sure he may harbor some affection towards her she was thoroughly aware it was not so soul altering as to keep him from that responsibility of political awareness. No, he loved only Cicilia Orsini in that regard.

Could Francis's jealousy then lead him to kill his so greatly loved brother? There was conflict, she knew, on whatever affections she and Bash may have for one another. But she suspected the obstacle there was that Francis did not trust her heart to allow her to marry him when it belonged to another as it was no longer necessary for her to make the sacrifice. How true it were that she found herself in doubt on what do.

So then, the only true motivation she could see for Francis in being behind the plot was to ensure she take his hand and solidify their alliance, the most advantageous the France. There it was then. Either there was a Scotsman trying to frame Francis so that she would break off her engagement and therefore her alliance with France or Francis took the risk of her not suspecting him in the plot and was trying to solidify his claim on her hand. She had her doubts. She had her hopes.

What she needed was more help in her investigation.

"Your grace must cease her worry." The voice took her from her thoughts and once removed she realized the carriage had stopped and arrived just outside of the castle gate. "As beautiful as you might always be," here she realized it was Bash who has been speaking to her, the doctor having stepped outside to converse and direct the guards on his care. Of course, she would have known it to be Bash even without recognizing his voice. Only he would speak so openly of her beauty. "You must radiate all of your loveliness today."

Mary's lips drew skyward as she looked at him. He too wore a snarky smile and it encouraged her. "I suppose my worry for your wellbeing was misplaced. You seem perfectly yourself right now."

Bash would tease her daily if it always so proved useful in taking her mind off the pressing responsibly by which she was constantly restrained. "I should pretend to be sicker then, should I? Perhaps I would earn some marker of your favor."

The carriage began to move again into the entrance of the castle grounds, they remaining alone. She was aware that Bash would be removed soon and she to follow as she made her introductions. She couldn't be sure she would be able to steal much time with him here at court. Looking at him, so very much the man she wished she could give herself permission to love, she felt caution momentarily take its leave.

Leaning down over him she looked into his multifaceted eyes. "Or perhaps you could favor me." She cajoled him with her eyes, hoping he would understand her meaning. "I must repay my debt to you for your having been so injured in my name." She steadied her breath. "So then, you may ask of me one task."

He watched her eyes yet again rest upon his lips and he could not imagine this was real. Was she truly asking him, giving him the permission? "If your grace would come closer." He responded. If she complied, if she bent her head so as to give him the angle needed he would most certainly take any chance she gave him, be damned the consequences.

Her chest filled to capacity as she leaned closer to him, more so when his hand gently found its way into her hair. This was going to happen. Something she had wished for so long a time, it was coming true.

His fingers tangled into her locks, her hand rested upon his cheek, his thumb caressed the bottom of her lip. Their breaths intermingled and they could smell the spice of one another, she sweet and he cinnamon.

It was overwhelming.

The air seemed to stand still, a moment removed from time. "Mary." He breathed her name like a prayer but the return of his name was lost as his head rose to soon claim her ready lips.

The gentle knock upon the side of the carriage, a knock most likely issued in warning by Thomas, forced Mary to reluctantly pull away before contact could be made.

She looked upon the man that had stricken her so. Fragile in his recovering state and yet still so strong for her. She was tempted to take the risk of being seen and meet his lips to her own. But she knew better of it; that doing so could cost him his head in France, and she was concerned for his wellbeing above any care she could have of her own. "Bash, you must take care." The statement was uttered with the entirety of raw emotion still drudged up by their near kiss.

Bash sighed, resting his head back on the stretcher beneath him. To be sure he frustrated by the interruption but content in the knowledge of what he had seen in her eyes just before. She cared for him. She might even love him, as he loves so dearly loves her too.

She began her exit as the guards opened the door, hastily so that they might extract Bash for care and sure enough she saw Thomas, a soft and conspiratorial smile upon his face. However grateful she felt toward the Englishman her focus remained on the man for which she nearly decided to give up all she had ever known to be her life.

"Thank you, your grace." Bash spoke weakly, his breath still stolen by Mary as his stretcher emerged shortly after her.

She offered him her hand for one last fleeting point of contact before he would leave her sight and all the blessed moment would be over. "You will heal, and then you will come back to me." She added the next part for the benefit of those there. "I need you in my service."

Bash's heart was so light he was unsure if he would be able to not yell his joy at all things involving her. But he too knew his place. "I will." He assured her, the guards now taking him away. "Someday, Mary." He yelled back at her, his wits returning. "You will have to tell me of how you came across such an antidote to save me."

She watched his retreat and she too knew that was the truth.

"If I may lead your grace? Our greeting party awaits." Thomas held out his arm for the young queen, hoping to jar her from her obvious distraction and to the matter at hand. He wished only to bring her about to her position and leave behind her other thoughts. Whatever happened inside that carriage while he detained the doctor and had given the two several moments alone, he would pretend to not know. As was his duty, in service to the queen.

"Thank you, Thomas." She lined herself in preparation for her greeting, most of court plainly visible. "Truly." She hoped her look to him spoke the volumes she intended. That time with Bash was precious, as short lived as it were.

He left her so she may stand alone as Mary Tudor, Queen of England came into sight. How different this introduction seemed, so lonely compared to French court when she had her ladies by her side.

"Your grace." Mary Tudor greeted as she stepped towards her. "You may call me Mary."

"As you may the same." Mary replied. "It is a pleasure to meet you, at long last." She added for some benefit. Perhaps to not show all the trepidation she still held on the matter.

"There will be time tonight to make your introductions to the court. But as I am aware you have had a long journey I have arranged for ourselves to keep to one another's company alone for the day." In truth, the elder of the two queens wished to have the opportunity to assess the younger, to see if she should continue her support of the girl's succession to her crown. "Shall we?" She gestured ahead to the castle.

Mary accepted and soon found herself led to a chamber of fine furnishings, a fire well lit in place and wine waiting. "I thank you for your hospitality." Mary ventured and sat down, waiting for the servants to leave.

Once they, two queens of the same Christian name, found themselves alone, Mary looked to the woman whose seat she would one day take. She was hard and cold but looked just as flummoxed as she to find anything on which to converse so as to promote their friendship. What does one discuss with a dying woman whose place you yearn to take? Suddenly, an idea struck her. Perhaps if she asked for help on a matter close to her heart she could kill two birds with a single stone.

"I look forward to the moment in which we can call ourselves friends. I am aware that is not now. But I must ask something of you, as a matter of urgency."

The native queen's brow rose slightly, curious as to the bravery, or stupidity, which of the two remained to be unseen, of the young queen in asking a favor so soon. She was sure this matter was the impending uprising against her in Scotland. It would be a mighty favor to ask her immediate response, never mind the likely request she relinquish the control of her men to Scotland. She may be willing, but only after she could be sure that the young queen could properly oversee the effort.

As for this queen before her, she was none too impressed at the lack of diplomacy displayed by the girl as of yet. "This favor, out with it." She replied with little patience.

Mary steeled herself with a breath. This was not going well but she needed to push on. "I speak not of issues of my home country or even of your own." She offered this first, aware the other queen must have assumed that the English troops in Scotland was the matter on which she were to speak.

Well, that was certainly different from what the Tudor queen expected. Her voice softened, but only some. She was still wary of her, after all. "What is this concern then? What favor may I offer?"

"I believe you are aware that I was escorted by three counsels, the son of Henry being among them."

"Yes." Mary Tudor recalled information on that score. She was told the French king sent his bastard son for the position as a show of his commitment to the girl. She also knew some in both the English and French courts suspected an attraction, affection even, between the bastard and the queen. "He fell ill on your ship, I believe."

"No." Mary's reply came out direct, wishing to correct the assumption she preferred the lot of court to access. "He did not. He was poisoned. I ask that as I have no resources to do so myself that you conduct an investigation into the matter on my behalf." She paused to take another breath but found that her predecessor was quick with response.

"I am sure you can gather just how serious I take poisoning after my own experience. Say no more. The French king may rest easy in the knowledge that an investigation will be launched immediately and when the assailant is found he will be turned over to your authority if Scottish or face justice here otherwise."

Mary admitted to herself she was impressed that unlike Henry and Catherine keeping her countryman from her, the other Mary was respectful of her sovereignty even in her land. "I thank you."

A curiosity rose within the English queen. Perhaps this girl could someday truly rise to the challenges of rule. She seemed much more aware of diplomacy than fist impressed and she carried an air of authority in her manner. There was a simple test to see if her new suspicions would hold true. "And what punishment would you deal out? If he be of England or France? Or a Scotsman?"

"Execution. In all three cases. I consider the attempt on the life of my counsel an act of treason or aggression against myself. As such, that is the proper punishment, regardless if the man be of my people or not." Mary stood firm, her statement speaking for her seriousness on the matter.

Now, Mary Tudor thought to herself. This is a queen, young she may be. She was a woman determined to see justice, to lead her people, a girl commanding authority at so young an age and willing to make the hard decisions at that.

She may come to like her after all.

"Do you have any insight as to what we may expect the nature of this plot to be? I cannot conceive of a reason to harm the bast-" She reconsidered herself, aware the rumors spread both ways in terms of where affections may lay. "-French counsel." She finished with much greater finesse than most could accomplish. "Surely you have some lead."

Mary found relief enter her. The English queen seemed somewhat perhaps not impressed but most certainly not put out. She had at first little confidence in what an English investigation into the plot might hold when she requested the intervention but that fear was slowly subsiding. This matter was being taken seriously and it occurred to her that perhaps this was best.

Bash being harmed was dreadful and an experience she wishes to never repeat, but now she seems to have made some sort of connection with the other Mary that she may begin to build upon it politically in the days to come. At least some good could come of his suffering. "It is thought by some that this attempt on Sebastian's life was either the product of his brother, the dauphin's, supposed jealousy or that someone is attempting to make it look as such."

"My, you do bring a certain sense of intrigue to a court already so stimulating." The English Mary could barely contain her smile. While she had expected the queen would prove interesting she had not expected diversions such as this.

Indeed, she found herself with a much different opinion of the budding woman than she had expected to have with so little between them. She came to the conclusion that perhaps her successor truly knew what she was doing, turning a situation of personal loss into a gain for all. This business was clearly upsetting and yet, she kept her wits about her despite the multitude of matters on which the Scottish queen had to worry, both political and personal.

In such a short time she had already found Mary Stuart to be respectful, politically aware, caring and concerned as well as capable... Yes, this was a queen she found she really quite rather liked. Perhaps she would take it upon herself to ensure her introduction to court ran smoothly and assist her efforts in Scotland. She would certainly consider it after expending her efforts in discovering whether the French dauphin was truly responsible for the near death of his father's son.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Thanks for all the comments and alerts! Your reviews are much appreciated!

I do not own Reign

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"Your grace looks lovely this morning." Bash bowed to the young queen, the woman who so captured his heart, knowing full well how she was likely to respond.

"Bash!" Mary quickly wrapped her arms around him in a momentary embrace, aware that around the corner stood guards, servants, nobles and most of court. They were to enter the meeting chamber shortly, her counsels and she having been called upon some short moments ago that a matter of urgency had arisen, and so they have precious few minutes before they would soon not be alone.

How good it was to see him. His skin had regained its lovely color and his eyes came clear. No longer did he seem in pain or discomfort of any form. For the first time in several days they met outside of her accompanied visits to his chambers. It seemed he was no longer infirm and what a lovely sight it was to see. "You appear quite well healed."

"I became ambulatory as of the morning. The last of the poison appears to have left me but I believe news of your successes here at court was primarily responsible for my restoration." How happy it was to see her smile. He was proud of her to be sure.

There was word that the queens had settled several disputes between England and Scotland in the short time, making the notion of Mary gaining control of English troops the more likely in the days to come. If the uprising commences today she may not be successful in procuring the men but soon, so long as she continued to impress, she would likely do so.

"Yes, I believe you may have placed your faith properly within me. It appears all the English truly want of me is to know I do not want to steal their crown but rather take it legitimately." She gazed aside in guilty pleasure of her face. "Who would suspect so little effort be needed on my part?"

How sure he had know she would win the hearts of the English court. "I would suspect. Though, I am sure you made some very proper efforts. I believe I heard of you taking six ladies into your service."

Humor lit her tone. "You do have quite the appetite for news and rumor while in recovery." She enjoyed the guilty rise to his cheek in response. "I have many men to win over here at court, men in charge of potentially banning my succession. There serves no better method for a queen to gain their favor, while maintaining her virtue, than swaying the opinion of his lady."

"I was thinking much the same." He reached out to smoothed a lock of her hair come out of place and enjoyed the slight shiver it elicited. "You have made some wise choices; however I have come to understand these ladies of yours leave you with less companionship than you are accustomed. I would hate to think you lonely, your grace."

There was something so careful in his freedom. Whenever he addressed her formally it was as if a secret was shared between them that none of the world could decipher. It was as if he was not speaking to the queen, but the girl. "I assume the source of your information be Thomas."

"Perhaps." Bash let his roguish smile speak for itself. "I find I do rather enjoy him."

Of course he would, he is a co-conspirator when it comes to protecting some of the intricacies of their relationship. "You like him because he informs you on me."

"He does so only in the interest of full disclosure among counsel, I can assure." Bash retorted, the reply on the ready in an effort of invented defensive humor.

Mary rose a single brow as her smirk grew and sarcasm colored her tone. "Yes, that is why Robert is rushing in here now, anxious to share a personal moment alone. To cure the loneliness inside me."

Only she could be so wonderfully perceptive to his motives in the early arrival. And only she could take something which she clearly found endearing and let him be in trouble for it. How he had missed her wit. "Perhaps I have simply come to have different concerns than your Scotsman."

There was a vulnerability in the statement equal in measure to the intimation of his infections that it implied. She found herself unable to weigh out her options, unable to determine the value of giving in to her heart's desires and doing the duty demanded of her. Here stood a man willing to break every rule and she remain unable to determine if she could do so as well.

That man in question could see the conflict within her. He knew she cared for him. It was plain as day or rain those two days ago when she nursed him, when she almost allowed a kiss. But he knew her moral composition well and so too knew of the inner turmoil brewing within. The advantage he had above her was the freedom from a royal position. He did worry for his people and his father's kingdom as well as her own. But it was not his obligation, it was his choice. One that he was aware she did not have. "It appears I have rendered your grace speechless. I take that as a personal accomplishment."

"We must all our goals."

"Indeed." Bash stepped to her side upon seeing Thomas approaching and bowing to the queen. "What news have you, Thomas, on this urgent matter?"

The advisor's eyes looked to the floor before meeting those of the queen, begging her understanding in what he was trying to convey. "Your grace." It was more a question than anything else. "Perhaps we should remove to a separate room for the moment."

Bash eyed the two carefully, suspect as to what this may be about. There was only one matter on which Thomas was unwilling to discuss during their visits, longer in length than those Mary could spare, and that was the nature of his poisoning.

When they found themselves into a private chamber Bash turned her towards him, worried at the paleness of her countenance. "Mary? What is this business?"

She swallowed her trepidation as she looked to him. "While you were recovering, I came to bond with Mary Tudor on several matters. The first, which served as our starting ground, was in my request that the conspirator against you be found. It was that topic and my request for assistance that provided the opportunity for her to see that I was not some young child wishing to sit upon the throne but rather a woman wishing to rule from it."

"A child you most certainly are not, Mary." He was proud of her and he hoped it showed in his tone. "I am happy to have provided the opportunity to display your capabilities."

The queen looked to her friend, the man so new to being recovered. How greatly she wished she could spare him from this. But it was his right to know and necessary if he were to return as her counsel. "It was the best of a bad situation, I assure you. But that is not where the matter lay." Mary moved to him, placing her hands gently upon his shoulders as she was aware of the delicate nature of what she was about to share. "Of this I am sure Thomas has not informed you for I specifically requested otherwise."

Bash waited out several moments of her pause before he was sure it was hesitation. "Whatever it may be do not upset yourself so. Share your thoughts openly, if with no one else then at least with me." He did so hope she were not about to dismiss his service.

She could see that her reluctance was only causing a surge of apprehension within him and thus, she sped along. "The current suspect in your poisoning owned the vial which was unique to him. Bash I will not try to lighten the burden or seriousness this will impose. Francis-" her words were cut off by his protest.

"Francis would never!" His voice raised higher in his insistence as he paced away from her. He was not angry with her, he was simply unbelieving. His brother, a man so dear to him, could not do this. "As angry as he may be, as low as he had come to have struck a blow, no. He would not attempt to end my life."

Thomas watched their exchange with interest. He worried for them. Matters of far less importance have come between many lovers before and this was as grand a scheme as any. A man comes near to death and the woman he loves, the woman engaged to his brother, accuses that very same man of the plot. It could end them and as he was the only person aware of their deep affection for one another, perhaps even including themselves, he took it upon himself to correct some assumptions. "Sebastian. You must understand. My future queen does not suspect it of him."

Bash looked upon her and seeing the question in his eyes she was glad for Thomas's intervention. Of all the many at court who proved willing to serve her she had come to trust him more than anyone and was thankful for the numerous burdens he so eased. "Bash. What he says is true. I too think not of Francis as the guilty party. I believe someone, perhaps Scottish, might be trying to break the alliance."

"What Scotsman could want such a thing?"

"I do not know. But if it be such a man he will be convicted of treason. I assure you of that."

Bash understood so greatly what she was saying. This matter was serious to her and there was a cost to pay for whoever had acted against him. If a Scotsman, as he prayed, it would be death. If Francis, the entire alliance would fall with English and Scottish accusations such as these launched against the dauphin. As much as Bash wanted her to avoid taking his brother's hand he knew too well that he did not wish hostilities to break between them.

He re-approached the queen with an ardent expression of worry. "Will you please speak on my brother's behalf, if necessary? So much is at stake, even if he be the man to order my poison I ask you to keep away from openly believing in it."

The sacrifice within him, Mary knew it existed but so horrible it was when it showed. He would be willing to further endanger himself in the name of his father's continued peaceful reign, in the name of her countries' alliance with France.

She was thankful that before she could respond, for she knew not how she would, a page called for them and soon they stood inside the meeting chamber. Bash and Thomas found Robert at the side and joined him there as all in the room bowed to the two queens.

Mary Tudor began her address "As my friend Mary has requested," Bash took a moment to wonder just when the two had become 'friends'. His Mary truly had been busy as of late. "I have taken it upon myself to conduct an investigation into the attempted murder of Sebastian de Poitiers, son of Henry of France."

Here she turned to him and Bash came forward as was expected. "Sebastian, before I reveal the details of what we have come to determine I wish to prepare you. They may well be shocking." Internally he winced, praying she not say what he expected. He truly would rather remain in danger of Francis than risk war. It was not what he wanted for Mary. It was not what he wanted for France. "I understand, your grace."

"Very well. Mary, Queen of Scotland. I regret to inform you of a great betrayal of someone dear to your heart."

Mary could see the whole world end in her eyes. If she, representative of Scotland and England were to stand here with the string of accusation against Francis it would change everything. She would free of his hand and yet she would be burdened with the impending possibility of war. "I beg of you to wait no longer in your verdict, for I can barely contain myself."

Out of the corner of his eye Bash could see movement to his left and after some short moment of wonder he could see Robert, the Scotsman, struggling in the arms of guards now upon him. "Your grace?" he looked to the English queen with hope in his eyes.

It was as if all the air reentered the room just then.

"Mary, Robert Williamson, your friend and advisor has been found to be your conspirator and when approached confessed his guilt. Witnesses account for his stealing of the vial which contained the poison while at French court in your service. Mary, I turn him over to your authority. As this is now a Scottish matter, I offer my assistance in the absence of your mother and home country in carrying out what sentence you may give."

Mary stole a small moment in time locked in gaze with Bash. Of anyone save he, she had little suspected someone so close to her of betrayal as Robert. There must have been good reason but regardless this betrayal hurt more than he could know.

She stood tall, walking higher on the platform as he was brought before her. She was aware of what she must do and it pained her deeply. "Robert Williamson. Have you any words which may save you? Any explanation as to why you chose to point our investigation at the dauphin of France?"

Bash was stunned by her. He had yet to have opportunity to view this woman he so loves in a position where she must exercise her power acutely. She was young, brave and strong but inexperienced. He prayed she not be too lenient but not for his benefit. She must appear as capable as Mary Tudor seems to be convinced. She must show her preeminence as a figure of justice and rule if she were to maintain all the work she had done in gaining favor with the queen and the court. Parliament was unlikely to remove her from succession if they felt her a capable leader and conversely likely to do so if they felt she lacked the ability to effectively rule.

But he worried little for this upon seeing the look in her eyes. She was the woman betrayed and yet she stood to be that figure for which she must represent naturally in her tone and grace. She was a queen.

Robert knelt before her, the picture of servitude and submission. "My reasons shall remain my own, your grace. But know that I did so in what I believed to be your service."

He cast his eyes on Bash and realized where his error had been. He knew that Mary would need the English authorities to investigate on her behalf and he knew they would not make an accusation against Francis for the sake of peace. He meant only to cast suspicion upon Francis and break the ties binding Mary to their engagement with no fault of her own, ties he had once believed to be love.

He had seen love, this is true. But on the wrong brother it lay.

The consolation in this failing is that the poisoning failed as well and Bash survived, meaning the chance for Mary to still separate from the unpopular engagement which would lead England to have an unfaithful regnant king of France as its consort. It also rest in that his guilt provided the opportunity for Mary to cement the bonds he had not expected she would gather so quickly at court.

Sentencing him as a traitor, to death, would fully rally the English around her in seeing that she were equitable in her rule to them as she would be to her own countryman. The process of unification would start to begin well before she took the English crown, making Scotland and his queen all the more successful. Yes, it may not be the manner of service intended but he could see the value in that. "My reasons, my service are not enough to save me, I am aware. I wish only that your grace know the extent of my sorrow as I come to understand how now greatly I have betrayed you."

"Betrayed me." Her anger came through with deadly calm in her tone of authority. "You betrayed my counsel. You put an alliance and war with France at risk, not just for Scotland" she looked to the room taking each of court into her conversation. "But of this, my new country as well. Speak not of betrayal to my person for it is the people I rule, the people we all serve in leadership which you have betrayed."

She spoke all this with the presence of command in her tone but her heart spoke differently. She was sure that Robert's motives were truly in what he viewed to be her service. From the moment she saw the guards restrain him it all came to make sense to her. He had doubted her. He doubted her ability to secure England while still engaged to the future king of France. He wished a peaceful, no fault separation. So, he had schemed.

Mary wished he had simply spoken with her on the matter. They might have found an alternative that did not lead to this. "I consider this interference an act of treason. It is only out of the years you have served me that I offer you this one relief. You will sent to Scotland for your execution."

All of court, including Bash and Thomas rose their head in surprise at that statement. That was a generosity none expected given her tone. Many, however, including Bash believed the decision to be a product of not wishing to show a weakness in needing the English for the simple matter of execution. She showed all her strength in determining a man's sentence. And having his execution arranged in Scotland, where her mother still holds the responsibilities of rule, equally showed her readiness to assume command of her kingdom. They thought on this dominant aspect of the queen to soon wear two crowns intently as she carried on. "Take him away."

Bash watched her closely as the meeting on this terrible matter concluded and the two queens lead the court in dismissal. He hurried to reach her side once in the hall, pulling her into the same private chamber where they had stood before.

He held her to him, overwhelmed in his need to console what he saw rising within her. "I see your worry, and your guilt, but it is not for you to take." He whispered to her gently as he rubbed her back in comfort.

She inhaled sharply through her teeth, trying desperately to stall the quiver of her lips but that stall would just not hold. Here in his arms no one could see her cry, no one would know save him. And she found she didn't mind him knowing she were not stone. She didn't mind that at all.

Her tears fell freely and Bash held her body with care as it racked with sorrow. He wrapped her fully around the small of her back with one hand and drew his other through her smooth locks until her brow met to his lips. "You are so strong Mary." He rested his nose into the tangle of silky black, taking in her sweet and jasmine scent. "You did what was needed. What must be done."

The gulps of breath she called upon in trying to calm herself began to fade in intensity. How so very much he cared for her, how so observant and understanding of all she feels he has always proved to be. "Please tell me you do not like me less for sentencing a friend once so trusted onto his death."

Bash pulled his head back so as to make her eye contact, his body still holding her. He was stunned at the source of her worry. "Mary," he caressed her cheek, the softness overtaking his senses. "There is nothing which you could ever do, out of duty or otherwise, which would persuade me to think or feel anything different than I already do."

As she looked into his eyes, ardent in expression, she wondered if she had the courage to ask to ask what those feelings were.

"Pardon my interruption. I usually pass my afternoon here." Mary Tudor entered the chamber with heightened volume upon seeing the bastard and queen in their intimate embrace. Falling in love with her fiancé's brother… To be sure, Mary Queen of Scots proved a most interesting young woman.

Bash and Mary were quick to drop their positions and stand apart, Bash bowing to the English queen and Mary discreetly turning so as to wipe the dried streaks of tears from her eyes and straighten the mess of her hair. How unfortunate, how dangerous all this could be.

She prayed desperately that all she had done to befriend the other queen did not unravel in so short an instant. Her selfishness in allowing this moment to take place, to be consoled so intimately by her friend, could cost her country the support of the army it so desperately needs. It could cost her an alliance with France. It could cost her everything.

"I do thank you for your investigation, Mary." The Scottish queen recovered in only a few moments, a skill she was thankful was instilled within her since birth. "It comes as a grand relief that the dauphin was not at fault."

Mary Tudor stood closer to the fire she had ordered in place and turned her body so as to fully face the scandalous couple. "I am sure the relief comes particularly to you, Sebastian. Your brother's affections for yourself seem unchanged from where they held on the outset of your journey here."

Bash inclined his head slightly in respectful agreement as he held his hands behind his back. He was so very weary of what the elder queen in the room might think, or say, or act upon in having found he and Mary in the compromising position. "Indeed I am so relieved, your grace. I only learned of the suspicions against my brother just prior to our meeting but I can say with honesty that no amount of time wondering on the possibility would have proved comfortable."

"Comfort seems to be of vital importance to you, I can see."

Mary grew past weary into fright at the accusation that intoned. But she recovered, for the sake of what Bash might feel at the moment. "Comfort is a human trait, surely. It is why we play, build fires, wear garments of silk. If a comfort can come from knowledge that so provides a desired relief from great pain then all the better of it."

The elder queen's gaze locked onto the younger woman's, her expression unclear. "Indeed." Turning towards Sebastian she lightened her tone as some games arrived, delivered by her servants. "Perhaps you might join some of the young men in tennis, Sebastian. I would very much care to play Pope July if Mary might entertain."

Upon hearing Mary's acceptance of the offer Bash bowed to both queens and retreated from the chamber, his worry and his feelings for Mary plain for all to see.

How greatly Mary wished she were a simple girl.

There was a distinct level of unease in sitting down to pass times with the English queen so sterile in countenance and expression. She was sure the elder woman was contemplating how to use her new information, information that could destroy all of her kingdom. And all she could do is sit and pretend not to worry as she built her stacks in the chilled silence of her company.

"For so young a woman you most certainly have varied interests." Mary Tudor remained focused on her cards but attention was clear in her manner.

Mary wished she could calm the emotional tide, so quickly spun between extremes in the last hour, so as to keep suspicion or perhaps anger from her voice. "I bed pardon?" Was she outright accusing her?

For the first time since they sat the elder woman looked to her successor, innocence playing. "I have observed you enjoy many of the games in which I too delight. I was ten years your senior however when I came to find value in the current venture."

Mary wondered on the possibility that this were some form of elliptical conversation, of the elder Mary venturing into a conversation of what she saw of her and Bash. Regardless, she tried to be reassured by her tone, if only to give herself a minute at composure. "I learned it only recently, at French court when-" she stopped herself.

"When?" she insisted Mary finish, aware of the discomfort overcoming the woman.

Mary re-gathered herself. If she showed no guilt, no fear, then perhaps the woman across from her would not be so apt as to throw her out with the bath water. "When Sebastian taught me how to play."

Aware of the Scottish girl's discomfort and almost finished in her contemplation on what she had witnessed, Mary Tudor spoke gently. The largest of her concerns remaining on the young woman was her future husband. She herself knew of the burden a husband's infidelity places on a regnant queen. His affairs and lack of loyalty would place her authority and ability to command in question, and that was something she dearly wished the next monarch to avoid.

It was then clear to her that she would favor and nurture any wedge which might sever the engagement between the dauphin and Mary. Perhaps then not only could a faithful husband be found but she needn't worry of the next consort being a king in his own right. That simply would not do. "I owe him my gratitude then. He found a fine player in you, though you might benefit from my instruction."

Hope. She examined the placidity of her predecessor for some hope in meaning. Perhaps the other queen was truly speaking in metaphor on the matter. Perhaps the other woman was not fully inclined to simply tell all and ruin the heiress to her throne. It had seemed before that she was coming to accept her position as just that.

There was only one way to be sure, and speaking around the topic was not it. "May I ask of you a moment of candor as I have come to consider you my friend these last days?"

"As I too have come to consider you." The elder queen placed her game pieces aside for the moment, giving her full attention to Mary. She did rather like her, did consider her a friend in the making, a placement for the affections of a daughter even. And she wanted to put the girl at ease, for she found that if she wished to sway the young woman from her long standing engagement to Francis she must first cement their bond. "A request of candor is a sentiment I too would like to initiate. But may I begin?" She must share some advice.

Mary held her breath, wondering what sort of lecture, reprimand or threat she may be in for hearing. "If you so wish."

"I thought you might find some information obtained during the investigation of interest. It seems you knew the Portuguese prince, now legitimized by the pope?"

Mary stood shocked for a moment. Of all those to enter this conversation he was not one she expected. "Indeed. We were well acquainted."

Engaged more like. The queen thought but continued unabashed. "It may interest you then to know that the push for his legitimacy came from a most interesting origin, Catherine de Medici, the French queen. Curious is it not?"

Well, that was interesting to be sure. Perhaps she should withhold less for a moment and fully open herself to the woman she calls a friend. "I can suspect only that she was trying to break me away from Francis. I cannot claim to know as to why, but I am sure of it."

Mary Tudor sighed easily, aware the other woman was finally appearing to take her into confidence. "Indeed. She wished to find you an alternate suitor, one more advantageous to Scotland at the time and he was her best candidate in what control she could exert over him. There were many motives in his looking for your hand but upholding his end of the bargain for Catherine's intervention was most certainly among them."

There was much there for Mary to consider but she could not be sure as to why she was learning of this now. "May I ask why you have chosen to share this with me?"

A smile reminiscent of Bash in its roguish integrity grew upon the other Mary's lips. "So you might learn that there are all manner of options when one considers the entanglement of politics and the heart." The elder queen reached for Mary's hand. "Your care and concerns have served as nothing but a manner of endearing you to me, and so I tell you this equally so as you might learn of my position in the nature of our relationship. You must not share your knowledge of this discovery I have found but I give it to you to make of it what you will." She paused to give the girl a chance to catch onto her meaning. "For as I trust your grace with my secrets so too may you entrust yours in me."

That was an astounding difference from what she expected. The queen of England, a woman so long her foe, who had so long wanted her crown, has now become the only woman, nay, person, with whom she could discuss the man closest in her heart. This was something of so deep a bond to form she hadn't considered it to be possible before now.

A servant came about just then, breaking the two away from the moment and calling them both to the attention of Thomas entering the room. There was something in his urgency, his manner which came to be of concern to both women.

"What is it?" Mary asked, no preamble necessary given his state.

"Your grace. We have word that the Protestants in Scotland have gathered. An army has been raised. They plan to rise against your mother in two days."

Once again the queen felt her eyes flutter closed in the severity of the news. "You are sure."

Bash's quick entrance, which would otherwise have been awkward and tense was masked by the news. "Mary, we most certainly are sure. And more so, it appears that the uprising has begun. A French emissary just arrived with news that these troops are already active in some of the villages near your shores. The situation is dire, instability of all of Scotland is imminent."

Mary began to pace. She had expected this, prepared for the eventuality that all her kingdom was to be plagued with internal strife. She had expected it to arise soon. Just perhaps not so soon, not before she could gather the armies of the English under her control. "And I suppose," she turned a hopeful eye to the elder queen so soon become her friend. "That I will not see help from the English yet? Having only just come to be of your favor?"

Mary Tudor looked to the heiress presumptive, a girl not yet in rule of her own kingdom but who would one day command all. She had faith in her, that she could rise to the challenges present, particularly now that the last days of her own life would be spent in preparing the girl for the role and her assistance would no go unaccepted. "You have become popular among the court and, as you know, we have come into one another's mutual trust. However the number of forces necessary is no small matter and stretches beyond the current alliance. I cannot relinquish the lot of my armies to Scottish control."

Mary whipped her body away from them before the other woman could continue, willing her mind to retain control of herself. She had failed. There was nothing she could think to do. Her home land would fall. "I understand."

The English queen came up behind her, aware of how very upsetting it is when a monarch believes they have reached the point of no hope. "No, you do not." Her hand on Mary's shoulder turned the girl towards her. "I cannot relinquish control of my men to _Scotland, _to your _mother._ I can, however give their authority to you."

Mary looked between the other three in the room, the English queen, a most trusted English advisor and her French counsel, bastard son of a king and desired lover. They three exchanged several glances which to them spoke volumes. "What do you mean?" She asked of her newest friend. When she found no response she looked to Bash. "Bash? What is it?"

He stepped closer to her, pulling her loosely into the wide circle of his arms and dipping his head to meet her gaze. He wished her to find solace there for he was aware of how greatly she would need the comfort and be damned the propriety that wished to prevent it. "Mary, there is more to you than just an ability to marry for alliances and bring home their armies. To repress this rebellion two things are needed. The first, an authority to which the Protestant nobility would be beholden to submit and could rally behind, and second, armies to force their need to make the decision to do so."

Mary took a step closer to him, wonder and worry clear on her face. "You mean to say we can provide both and bring the country back to peace?"

"Yes, Mary. We must leave tonight before the great deal of this uprising begins. Your mother can stall no longer because legitimate authority in Scotland and the ability to assume control of the armies of England on your soil belong to only to you."

She had come so far, she had been successful at court, procured an army for her people, settled much for international peace and found a home here in England and yet she was not done. She had danger yet to face, armies to lead, rebellions to repress, lords to rally and all it be for the sake of her duty.

How Mary truly did wish she were just a simple girl.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: And we are back! I am so glad to see the number of Reign fics growing every day on the site, especially the Mash fics, can't help but love them. This chapter will find Mary back in her homeland and boy, is there trouble to be had. I hope you enjoy it :D

I do not own Reign.

* * *

Bash watched Mary as she sat in deep reflection, staring out her carriage window as she so often does when in said state. For the whole of the journey to Scotland, about two days in entirety, she had become significantly less vocal in her thoughts even when the several advisors that accompanied their journey for periods at a time were not present. He wondered if it was simply that she had much to consider on the choices she faced in Scotland, or if perhaps something had been said between the English and Scottish queens on the matter of having been found out during the several hours the women took to themselves before their departure, and perhaps this be the reason for her withdrawal. But as of yet he had seen nothing to indicate anything whichever way within Mary other than preoccupation.

He understood. After all, she did have many things that had required much of her attention along their journey, so he had let the matter of being found rest at that and left her to her consideration. But he was becoming concerned that she was not keen on discussion of any matter at the moment.

He wished only to lighten her burden in any way possible.

Perhaps if so much business had not needed to be done along the journey to Scotland she would have had time to gather all her composure. Perhaps had they not have had Robert in transport for his execution in tow she would have had one less matter on her mind. Perhaps if Thomas had come too, instead of being sent to France to speak on her behalf, he could look to the older man for advice. But alas, he would have to forge ahead on his own and try to bring her back to life through conversation.

"Mary, we passed the boarders an hour ago. You have yet to notice."

"I noticed." She protested but with no emotion, still looking out at the overcast clouds of her homeland. "I have simply made no comment."

"I see."

Mary turned at the tone of his voice. It held something between disappointment and worry. She knew she was uncharacteristically quiet at the moment but she wished to spare him the weight of her many concerns. Perhaps in doing so she only made him all the more liable to worry. "I apologize. I seem to have my mind overcome with all that has happened."

He was encouraged in her manner, that she be more open to him now than at any moment in the last two days, since Mary Tudor had walked in on their embrace. "Did something happen during your time with the English Mary? Since she had stolen you away before we left court you have seemed inordinately preoccupied."

Mary wondered how it was that she was not supposed to be so. In the last hours of her time at court, after Bash had been sent to arrange the journey to Scotland and Thomas instructed on how to speak for her at French court where he was to return, Mary Stuart and Mary Tudor spent the remaining hours of their time alone.

Much had indeed occurred. It was as if she had been given an entire lifetime's education in how to be a queen in the matter of mere hours. Many topics were discussed. From strategy in Scotland to her pending marriage with Francis, the elder Mary held an opinion and advice on all.

One such topic in particular was close to Mary's heart and it brought her great conflict. She could sum it up in a word: Bash. That man, the man across from her in their carriage, the man for whom she would be most likely to risk it all, she sat in wonder of him. He, so carefree. He, so skilled, intelligent and aware. He, so very much the man she loved.

Yes, Mary Tudor had much to say on him.

"Mary?" Bash's voice recalled her to the present, humor striving to overcome worry. "I seem to have lost you again."

She sighed deeply, wondering what to make of all that the other queen had made of her situation. How was it that the elder queen could see the love she felt for Bash so plainly? Aside from walking in on their embrace, Mary Tudor could see something more, something deeply buried. She could see the very nature of Bash's effect upon the queen. He freed her, made her whole, made her the capable woman that the English court had come to admire. She would be lost without him.

That thought of losing him, of not being able to find another option, an option which could allow her to have him made her stomach ache and mind whirl.

She had to put it out of her mind. "It is nothing."

"Mary." He warned, he was not to give up on her, not when he had come to close to learning what be on her mind. He was unused to being left in the dark on her thoughts. She was unreadable lately, and it made him uneasy. "Share."

"It is only-" Here she stopped mid-sentence as the carriage came to a halt. "What is the matter?" She looked to Bash who held no answer but was relieved when the carriage door opened and her two advisors, that had been in her company for this final leg of the journey over the last five hours, climbed in to visit on their business. She glad to see them for she had worried that perhaps they were to be attacked until they had come to sit opposite she and Bash.

"We have urgent news, your grace." Dùghlas began as he pulled out a map and set it upon his lap, borrowing space from Bash who sat across from him. "We have been informed of a possible attack upon a village just two miles from here, the situation appears dire."

Mary's heart felt as if it could not beat in that moment. "Tell me what has happened."

Suddenly, she was thankful that her last few hours at English court had contained so much business for she doubted she would feel prepared otherwise. Mary Tudor had insisted that she no longer focus on what her mother had her do, that be in finding a well armed husband, and rather on learning to rule and conduct her military in her own right. It was a matter on which Bash fully agreed and in his echoing of the sentiment, loudly, the two had become endeared to one another.

So, Mary had accepted the offer of so many advisors, each coming to her for a period of the journey at a time, to prepare her for the challenges she would meet as she crossed into her boarders.

She had learned of many things. The main threat of the uprising was that there existed an organized effort whose armies were to try and occupy several villages along the eastern coast. However, her spies into the faction have informed them that after this occupation, where rebel troops shall take quarter in said villages, that many would then continue on towards Edinburgh, where they wish to overrun Mary's mother and court and force the decision to allow the occupied areas to succeed from the crown.

It was something that she must stop and so, she was thankful that she had had so many advisors to prepare her for it appeared now she would not have time to make it to the outpost as she had expected, no time to first consult her generals before making a decision. Her responsibilities were rapidly upon her.

"As we had discussed previously, Kirkliston and Linlithgow were the two villages were we expect our highest innocent casualty counts once you order the strike against them."

They had indeed discussed this. Mary knew the strategic value of suppressing and eradicating the active and armed protestant rebels taking quarter in these villages and several others. It would prove essential in stemming the movement, communication and successes of the troops within the uprising. The downside, and one she had not taken lightly was that there was significant loss of innocent life to be expected.

She had asked for a report on the numbers estimated from each village before she ordered the first strike, and that men be dispatched to Kirkliston and Linlithgow, two strategic villages near Edinburgh, to try to evacuate the innocents of the population. These names being mentioned now gave her a horrible feeling of dread. "Has there been word of movement into one of these villages?"

Latharn shook his head in dismay. "On the contrary, no word at all has been sent back to us from Linlithgow. A company had been sent as you ordered but with no word we suspect something has run afoul within the village."

Mary could feel a lump which she could not swallow come to take its claim in her throat. She had something personal, something she wanted to protect in Linlithgow. Hearing that no word had come, in her mind, spoke of the worst case scenario. Perhaps one of her previous advisors had been correct in assuming the rebels' strategy and the village had already been overcome with their forces. It was her duty to find out and equally her duty to protect her innocent citizens. "We must take our forces there, now."

Latharn's head lashed to his queen. "Surely you do not suggest we, ourselves go? We can send out for another force along our way to the outpost. We are expected by nightfall."

Bash wanted to roll his eyes at the advisor, so large on strategy but not keen on getting messy himself. "Mary, I agree with your assessment. As much as I wish to avoid seeing you in the middle of a conflict area our convoy is an entire battalion of men. We are closest, in large enough number, to assist."

Mary looked to him in appreciation. Dùghlas and Latharn had thus far showed a deep lack of both faith in her ability to lead as well as a distinct display of cowardice, particularly in the case of Latharn. She was glad to have Bash at her side, yet again. "We shall off to Linlithgow. Latharn, tell the men to prepare for battle, and let us be gone within the quarter hour. Dùghlas, I wish a moment."

Latharn left the carriage feeling none too pleased which was apparent in his countenance and manner. Once he had cleared of his space and Mary could hear him begin giving orders to the men accompanying their convoy, she set about to continue her business. "While we await the start of our venture I wish to learn more of the rogue army that had been made mention of earlier by letter. What have we learned of it?"

"Your grace needn't worry on that account. When all pertinent information is gained I shall let you know of it."

Mary's eyebrow rose in incense at her subject's continued attempts at dissuading her from topics which might make her 'worrisome'. "Answer my question." Her tone held no patience and she could see the effect it was beginning to have upon her subject.

"Very well, your grace." He could tell his queen was near to losing her temper. "There is much more we do not know than do, I am afraid. What we do know is that this rogue army is moving about with the sole mission of finding you." He found his next words with care. "We believe their intent is on capturing you and possibly on assassination."

Bash found himself with an astonished gaze as he looked upon Mary's countryman. "And you did not find this to be pertinent information?" The glare he came to direct the man's way made clear of not only his displeasure but of a threat implied. Dùghlas would answer to him if something were to happen to his queen, he made sure the man understood that very simple fact with only the warning in his gaze. He would not have her authority questioned if he could prevent it, and prevent it he was most certainly capable of doing.

Dùghlas attempted to keep himself on an even keel, for the first time in many years feeling intimidated by another. Whatever of the rumored affections between the French bastard and the queen be true he knew only this, he would not come to question it or his queen again anytime soon. "I ask forgiveness, your grace."

Mary waved the matter off, she had much more to be concerned on at the moment. "I assume their reasons be political?"

Dùghlas nodded, aware he was not forgiven but only put out of thought for the time being. "There is much to the politics of this act, for if you die, and with the expectation that Mary Tudor is about to as well, the Protestants believe the crown of Scotland would be in dispute and they wish to take opportunity and make an attempt at ceasing power."

Mary tried for breath, finding almost none. She knew this uprising might turn against her, she had been warned on the journey here as well as within her own heart. But confirmation that men of her own country wanted to see her death was a prospect she had been none too eager to face. "I understand." She sighed out, looking upon the map being laid over her and Bash's laps. "And we know not what lord might be behind the plot?"

"We do not." Dùghlas returned. "We know only that your grace must not be escorted by less than a full compayn from here on out. The more men, the better. This is why we added more men shortly before crossing the border. You are in grave danger, you must understand."

Had it not been for Bash taking her hand below the map which rest upon them she might not have been able to find the few calming breaths necessary to retain her composure. "You will find I am quite used to my life being the subject of plots against it." She stated in plain fact before her tone changed to direct with the encouraging squeeze of her friend's hand. "Very well then. Now that I am fully informed I ask that you make preparations for our transfer to horseback if there be a battle to be had. I will not be left flat footed."

"We are still to Linlithgow?"

She handed the map back to Dùghlas after having folded it neatly. "What use would I be as a queen if I allowed fear of my head to paralyze my neck? Go. See to it that the men are fully prepared for the venture. With two forces about we must ensure that we do our duty to prepare them wisely. I have much to consider in the mean time."

The advisor knew when he was being dismissed and left the carriage, acutely aware that the French bastard was not included in the order to leave the queen at peace.

Bash waited until Dùghlas and the others coming to meet him were fully out of view before sliding closer to Mary, so that their knees touched, and took her hand, tracing small, comforting circles into her palms. "You worry for your men."

"I worry for many things." Her eyes fell closed, trying to focus on only his ministrations. "My men, my country, that entire village, you."

Bash's eyes darted to her face at the last part but he saw nothing but her trying to calm with closed eyes. She might not even know what it is she had come to say. "As I worry for you."

Mary's eyes fluttered open at the gentleness, the rawness of his statement. If it were another time, a time more special and less fraught she might just simply tell him how she felt. But she knew she shouldn't, Mary Tudor had been correct in her warning to not give hope to the man when she could not know what could be done of their situation. So, she turned the conversation, yet again. "Do you intend to ride with me if we do indeed go to battle?"

"Of course." He replied with little thought. None was needed. "I would not be doing my duty as protector and counsel if I were to abandon you at moments of peril, would I?"

Mary sat a moment in examination as the carriage and convoy began to move again, turning west toward Linlithgow. "It is not your duty to see me into battle. France's protection was extended to my travel to England. You have done what is your obligation."

Bash found an uncomfortable lump-in-throat of his own. "If you wish me to return to France, I will on your order. But as far as my wishes, I would rather accompany your efforts." He paused, finding his wording. "France's obligation may have been fulfilled, but my freely chosen duty as your friend remains."

The Scottish queen let a small, reassuring smile lift upon her. "You are the best of men, Sebastian." When his eyes rose to meet her own she leaned forward to retake his hand. "You are most certainly the greatest friend I have ever had."

The satisfaction in hearing that came through his eyes in bounds. "As you are the greatest friend of mine, my queen."

"I am not your queen." Her tone turned playful, needed relief from the pounding of her heart having come to be found. "Not unless I marry Francis and take pry away Catherine's crown."

He chuckled at the image as well as in how he was encouraged to still hear the word 'if' applied to her marriage to Francis. Again, he knew it not necessarily mean anything for him but if she marry his brother he cannot say he would be apt to stall or stop his perusal of her. No other woman would ever compare. But he did not wish to betray his brother so, he dearly loved them both. "There is where you are wrong Mary. I may be a child of France but my heart shall be citizen wherever you reign."

Goodness, she thought to herself. He certainly knew how to take a woman's breath away.

"Who is that?" Her attention deviated of its own accord in having seen the carriage pass a man having waved frantically to them. "Stop!" She yelled out to the men up front.

"Mary?" Bash looked out the carriage window, trying to see what had her so excitable. He could not see anything of interest.

She stepped out the moment the carriage slowed to a near stop, aware that Bash was shortly behind her and that several of her guards came to her left in an attempt to sandwich her position between the convoy and themselves. After a hundred feet she could see the elderly man struggling to run toward her, his hat in one hand and a bag in the other. She could see he had left some items by the roadside "Help him with his things." She instructed of a guard.

She remained where Bash had placed a gentle hand upon her shoulder to stall and waited for the man's approach. "My dear sir." She greeted, concern evident in her tone as she took the man in. A smear of blood run down his shirt, several cuts littered his features, though they seemed to have been cleaned and he be absent of any outer clothes, a shirt and pants all to be served in keeping out the cold of the weather.

"Your majesty." The man bowed low before her. His inward gulps of breath beginning to abate. "I have much to inform you on the state of Linlithgow."

Bash swiveled around Mary in concern. "Who are you?" After all, this could be some ploy of the rogue army set against her. He would not be keen to allow the man much closer without some understanding of him.

"I apologize." The gray hair on his head came to rest at chest height yet again before his eyes returned to theirs. "My name is Aonghas. I am an apothecary, fled from the village."

"Come." Mary once again gained ground on Bash but was mindful to not surpass him and remain close to his side for she knew he cared only for welfare. "You must to my carriage. We will get you food to recover and clothes for warmth and then you might set about telling me more of the situation of the village."

Bash set a guard to the task of procuring the items requested as he followed the queen and her subject closely back to the carriage. He held the door open and sat next to Mary as the apothecary took the rear facing seat. Once the items asked for were supplied, quickly and as prompt to his liking, he signaled that the convoy be off yet again.

"I thank your majesty's generosity." Aonghas pulled the supplied coat and cloak about him before taking a large bite of the food provided. "You are very kind, just as I had seen."

"Seen?" Mary's curiosity piqued. "Have you taken to my audience before?"

The old man shook his head earnestly and tapped his temple as his mouth was still mid chew. "I see much."

Bash's hand came to indicate the man's bag, the possession he had seemed insistent on carrying his own. "You are an apothecary. A seer too, perhaps?"

"You see much as well." He nodded in reply. "Not as I see it, but then your eyes are likely more reliable than my own."

Mary was intrigued but she had much she wished to learn of the situation in Linlithgow. She had a great personal interest there that she wished to protect and anything which she might gleam was appreciated. "How is it that you came to stand by the roadside?"

"I had known it was the path you to take once the decision had been made. However, I assume you ask as to why I had been from my village. I will make my answer short. I consider myself fortunate to have had the opportunity to flee its bounds before the majority of blood was shed."

Mary inhaled deeply, wishing she could call upon the comfort of Bash's hand so close to her own. He was always her anchor, she just wished it acceptable for him to be so.

Aonghas focused on the food in hand, not lifting his eyes for even a moment. "You may take his hand. I am not to judge or spread rumor."

Bash and Mary's eyes came to meet, he having been wanting to offer such comfort to her as well. They were spooked but he took the opportunity anyway, only keeping their grasp pressed gracefully into the seat between them.

"How dire is the situation? We are to arrive within the half hour. Anything you can provide so that I might prepare your queen's men is much desired."

The elder man finished his sustenance with a nod. "Of course, yes. The men came from the southwest at dawn this morning. First they had taken to the streets and we, my neighbors, apprentice and myself thought it might be a simple passing through as there appeared no need for them to wish quarter for the night. However, it became apparent that more was to it than this." He leaned forward to Mary. "Your majesty has many loyal to her in Linlithgow. However, those whom I had noticed to be sympathetic to the uprising had come to walk the street with these men and that was when I knew something was about. I set about packing my things but before I could see to my neighbors to do so as well I heard the violence erupting into the homes of the many around me and the shatter of the glass of my shop downstairs. My apprentice and I fled down the lattice upon which I grow my hops and to the less populated streets. Blood ran everywhere else."

Bash looked upon the man's state, worry in his expression. "You sustained some injury, this is clear. Do you need attention from a doctor, which we might call, for what we might not see?"

"No, no." Aonghas insisted. "I had trained as a physician myself in France until a colleague and myself were found out to have been apothecaries." He took a moment in thought, aware his next question was more informative to them for he already knew their reply. "You might know of him, being French. Nostradamus?"

Bash and Mary both nodded but made no comment so he continued. "I had made my way through the men by offering my services in remedies. Worry not, I gave them poison." He bowed to his queen, hand over his heart in earnest service. "My apprentice was unlucky to have found himself at the hands of a man unbelieving of his skills who decapitated him instantly and without cause. I escaped with only these wounds as a consequence of what skills I possess that others lack."

The queen looked upon her subject with pity at the guilt in his tone. "I am thankful for it for I might not have had the benefit for all I have learned. I thank you for your service."

He inclined his head in respect of the queen but the dismissal that could be found there frightened him. "I would offer my assistance to your majesty. I have noticed you have not a man of medicine in your accompaniment."

Mary was grateful for the offer and accepted as the carriage came to stall. Bash stepped out to see off the scouts that were to be sent into the city before the convoy would either turn into a battle ready company or a rescue party.

"If I may." Aonghas began as he leaned forward, the mark of Mary's attention on Bash through the carriage window prevalent to him. "I have much I might share on matters dear to your heart."

Mary's curiosity ripped her eyes away from Bash and to the gray man. "You have a report of prophesy?"

"Indeed. I have such." He whispered, taking the beautiful queen into his confidence. "First, I feel it my duty as you are my queen to share with you knowledge of what my friend Nostradamus has reported on his own visions to the French queen."

Mary wondered momentarily upon it. Perhaps this was something she truly did not want to know, her subject seemed eager to share yet hesitation was evident in tone. But she must know, if it give reason for Catherine's behavior she must come to understand. "Please, do free your mind."

"Very well, your grace. It seems Nostradamus had a vision when you arrived to court and shared it with the French queen." He paused, trying to find the words. "She had decided against you for what warning it had contained. She wishes only his protection but you might well need to be cautious when you return."

Mary gulped audibly. For Catherine to feel the need to _protect_ her son, something dreadful must have been learned. "And the nature of this vision?"

"According to what he shared, it be that if you and the dauphin of France wed, death will come to him before his time."

Mary's complexion paled in that knowledge now come to pass but she retained her composure in reminding herself she might think over the implications of this at a more convenient time. "And have you a vision related to my fate? To what shall happen to Scotland?"

"Indeed I do." He quickened his words as Bash's voice came closer to the carriage. "Three women, unknown to one another, shall together create a path your majesty must only follow. Heed the advice and direction of these matriarchs and success of your heart's truest desires shall be yours."

Her reply was cut before it began when Bash opened the carriage door. "Mary, we are to take horses to the village. The scouts have found no movement to be concerned of as of yet." He reached for her hand assisting in her exit before he did the same to the elderly man. "You might find a horse of your own with my servant if you wish to accompany our party."

The enfeebled man bowed to the Frenchman in his gratitude before reaching for the hand of his queen as Bash had turned to take possession of the horses delivered to them. "This," he reached his soul out to hers.

Mary could feel herself overcome for the moment. A vision, so clear as if a memory, came before her eyes and once gone she looked upon the man in wonder as he finished his sentence. "This may still come to pass. Remember the prophesy I have told to you and it shall so be."

Mary stood staring off after him, barely aware of her movements as she took to her horse with Bash assisting in the effort. She could simply not shake the vision in which she and the seer had shared. It was of such a happy fantasy she had not yet allowed of herself. She, crowned and surrounded by loyal subjects, sitting upon her throne with one child on her lap and another expecting.

The juxtaposition of that happy dream, compared to the aftermath of the bloodshed of her people that she was now about to witness, was not lost upon her. As they set off towards the village bounds she found herself in desperate prayer that survivors be found. She was unsure if she were strong enough to face the task, but that vision being something which she might someday attain certainly made the prospect of facing the remnants of the village that lay ahead less of the challenge that she surely could otherwise not endure. It gave her permission to hope in terms of where her life might lead, where her country might end up after the uprising, and that perhaps not all of those for whom she cared for so greatly had been lost in Linlithgow.


	8. Chapter 8

A/N: Thank you everyone for your follows, favorites and reviews. It means a lot!

I do not own Reign.

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"Has your grace regained her appetite?" Bash sat down directly across from the queen at her table by the fire in the small outpost, six miles from Linlithgow.

The inspection of the city had been dreadful and none, including Aonghas, were eager to remain in such a place for longer than necessary to extract the single survivor that the apothecary could save. They had taken count of all men, women, children and of assumed trades based on clothing and then made haste in seeking protection in the outpost before nightfall.

The survivor had informed them of what he knew of the men that came. They were looking for Mary among the villagers and killed them all in the effort. This had not sat well with the queen and all there had known it, particularly the man always keeping a careful watch over her mental welfare.

"Not in the least." Mary looked down at the bowl of stew that now sat cold before her, aware that Bash had refused food as well. "I had hoped smelling this stew would help but it is actually quite revolting." She knew though, that the problem lay not with the stew.

The day had been trying upon her sensibilities, a topping point on what had seemed an ever increasing pile of worries and emotional tumults since she had found Bash poisoned.

After having left Linlithgow, having found no evidence of those she cared for to be dead or escaped, the convoy set out. It had been the initial plan that since they had not wished to leave a trail that the rogue army could follow that they would reclaim the carriages they had left all but abandoned, save thirty-two armed guards and one other, Robert.

But it appeared that their carriages, belongings and men had vanished upon their return so instead of sending men out to just the woods, neighboring villages and roads to seek out escaped villagers, she had to send men from the surplus of the battalion after the carriages as well.

She had been busy, but now it seemed there was nothing else she could do but wait. She wished for anything, some news, a task, something upon which to focus her attention other than all that had come to rest upon her weary mind. She was coming undone and knew not how to react.

Bash sighed in his worry over Mary's emotional turmoil. There had been moments where he could tell that the queen was full to losing her composure when in the village. When she had run into the estate anchoring the square without so much as allowing guards to search the premises first, he knew that something, someone, awfully important was in her concern. He had searched after her in a panic until he found her in a room that served as a nursery, clutching a baby's blanket to her bosom as she tried to hold back her tears. He hadn't the opportunity to ask what was happening before news of the survivor pulled them from their place and the moment had been lost.

He would try and learn what it was when they had a chance, but for now, he only wanted to care for her. "Perhaps you should try some bread instead, or I could ask Aonghas for a tincture. You seem unwell."

Mary knew he was speaking on more than just her physical state but was unwilling to open her heart on particulars in a room full of other men. "A tincture might do me well indeed. I would thank you to send a servant to request one be made."

Bash nodded his acceptance of her small quest and beckoned a servant over to do as she had asked. Once alone again he could not help himself any longer. As greatly as Mary was affected by what they had seen, all there had been as well. "It was barbaric." He started, hoping that she might speak of it in general terms if nothing else.

She nodded solemnly. "Poor souls of my countrymen." She sighed out, taking a sip of the wine that had sat untasted until that moment. "I looked right into the eyes of a mother, laid slain in the street, still with child." Memory of her recent vision had come to sit with her during those moments. How dearly she had internally wept for that poor mother, the child inside never having the opportunity to emerge into the world, never having chance to see the country which she rules.

She took this personally. These were her countrymen, the men, women, _children_ that she was supposed to protect, and yet not a single man of her army seemed to be among those deceased. She wondered on that. "Where were the troops I had sent to protect the village?" She asked aloud to Bash, aware he was paying close attention to her every word. "Have we come to account for them?"

"I cannot say." He fortified himself with the remainder of wine in his cup. "There has been some talk of a possibility…" he trailed off, not wanting to say more.

"What possibility?" Some anger came through in her otherwise curious and worried tone. The last thing she wanted was for Bash to treat her as if she be delicate when it comes to matters of her rule. He had never done such a thing before. He would console her emotional tides and act as her support but he never questioned her state save for when they were alone and of their personal time. "Bash." She warned.

He held his hands in front of him so as to keep accusation away. "I pause not for your grace, but myself. I apologize." He gathered a needed breath. "It is difficult for me to contemplate the possibility of a company of Scotsmen abandoning their queen, or worse, turning on her."

She gasped in her understanding. "You think they might have done this? Or joined forces with the rogue army?"

"I know not what to think on the matter of your men. But I do know that I do not trust your Scotsman and Scottish troops anymore until we find the truth."

Mary sighed in exasperation, though became thankful when the servant returned with a tincture from Aonghas in hand. She knew not how to respond to Bash's admission for she agreed wholeheartedly on the notion. She could trust only Bash, her English troops (which was still something of a shock in nature) and Aonghas. She would certainly not doubt the man whom shared the vision she received.

"Your grace." Latharn and Dùghlas greeted simultaneously, just behind the departure of the servant. "Are you well?" Dùghlas continued, aware that he had interrupted some conversation of import between the French bastard and the queen. But he would not ask on it, not with the reminder of Bash's warning glare still fresh in his memory.

Mary gestured for them to join her and Bash at the table and drank of her tincture as the written directions stated. "I am simply in need of something to entice appetite."

Latharn nodded in full understanding. He had been none too keen on consuming anything other than his wine since he saw the bodies lying in the streets. "I could use such a tincture myself."

Bash could see through the men at the table quite well. They were too struck by the sight of so many innocent lives lost. It was that part, the innocent part, which got them. But dwelling was doing no one well, particularly Mary, so he decided to continue his efforts of understanding what had occurred and then perhaps they might make sense of how to handle the aftermath. "Gentlemen, have we any insight as to why such bloodshed had come to be laid out so plainly?"

Dùghlas shuddered visibly at the reminder. "During our search several of the men claim they noticed dragging marks, trails of blood leading from within the homes to the bodies in the street."

Bash could feel his disgust rising. "Then they must set them out on display. They wanted to show their power in this. They wanted to make it clear that the Protestants or rogue army, whichever it be, had the power and audacity necessary to overhaul full cities if they so wanted."

Latharn nodded gently, aware the queen took this upset personally. "That is what we believe, yes."

"Well, their message was received." Mary sighed, weary of all that had occurred in the name of having her head and the crown that rests a top it. "Is there any word yet on who might be controlling this rogue army, if indeed it be that force to perform the atrocity?"

Latharn was growing weary of all that had come about. "I do not wish to alarm your grace in saying so, but yes. The survivor from the village heard mention of a lord, Lord Roxburgh."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Lord Roxburgh is thought to be loyal to my mother. He is known to detest the Protestants."

"If I might." Bash interjected over Latharn's reply, aware it best this come from him. "I would point out to your grace that just because he might not be a Protestant does not mean he does not wish to sit upon your throne. Is that not right, Latharn?"

The older man was thankful for the bastard's intervention, aware that whatever of the affections between the queen and the French king's son, he was a well performing counsel and much trusted by his ruler. "Indeed, I do say so. Your grace, nothing of what we do know of the rogue army at the time indicated an exact relationship to the uprising in and of itself. It may well be that Lord Roxburgh, or another if it not be he, has simply decided to take advantage of the chaos erupting within our country and your return home to lead our forces."

Mary sighed, thankful to drain the cup of her wine that had been just refilled if only for a moment to think. But that moment was simply not enough. "Is there anything we can do tonight?"

Both men shook their heads. "Until the scouts return we have no direction on where we should travel. And unless news arrives calling us away we thought it best that the night be spent in recovery."

Mary rose from her seat, the men doing so as well. "Very well. If you would excuse me, I have much to consider."

All three men bowed, her countrymen lower than Bash who kept his eye keenly on her form as she left the room.

Her feet had taken her as swiftly as she could allow without appearing to be in distress to all the guards lining the halls. She was crumbling on the inside. Her men are betraying her, hundreds died in the name of their loyalty, their sacrifice in her service. She could know nothing of those she most wanted to protect. She brought destruction everywhere she went. Her mind was a well about to cave in above her.

She entered her chamber and immediately took to tearing through the single bag of clothing that she had strapped to her horse. She needed to find it, it was all she now had.

"Mary." Bash approached her side, trying to calm her frantic movements as garments came to be spilled upon the floor. "The guards are still watching." He tried to warn her, lest she feel the embarrassment of breaking down in front of her subjects.

Without turning she yelled to them. "All is fine in here. Close the door. I have much to discuss." She was only a shell of herself in the order, it coming to her lips without thought for all she be was invested in finding the article. "Of all the holy…" she grumbled, her frustration evident.

"Is this what you are looking for?" Bash held out a piece of cloth pulled from the small satchel he carried around his shoulders. He had found the item fallen upon the ground near her horse earlier that night. "Mary, whose is this?"

Her eyes gleamed in the fire light with unshed tears apparent as she walked towards him. "Thank you." Her breath shuddered as she took the baby's blanket into her hands. She had given this herself, by messenger, to the young lass nowhere to be found. "Thank you."

She clutched the blanket to her as she had done before and once she smelled the familiar baby smell could no longer contain herself, letting out the first of her wailing cry.

Immediately Bash was upon her, taking her into his arms as she slid against him, falling to the floor by the fire. He too came to sit upon the rug where she came to rest. "Mary." He soothed back her hair, pulling her into his chest for support, and whispering encouraging words until her breath evened and tears stalled after several minutes. "What was so important here, in Linlithgow?"

Mary's gaze lashed from her teary preoccupation of the sparks of the fire behind him to that of the man she so adores. "What could you mean?" She tried to sway his attention though knew full well how acute his sense of her ran. He must have been watching her, examining her all the while as she and her advisors discussed the matter. He must have seen how ardently she wished to keep harm from the village and truly, seeing all that she saw of those innocents lost was the most trying experience of all her life thus far.

Bash curled a lock of her hair around his finger, trying for full calm in his voice to lull her from her upset. "I know that we always expected our largest casualties in Linlithgow and so I understood when you were so insistent on sending extra protection to the village and of course your withdrawal once we got there. But there was something more ardent within you. There was something you wanted to protect." He fingered the fabric of the baby blanket she clutched up to her nose. "Someone you wanted to protect."

"Just how do you know how I react when I want to protect something?"

"Mary," he chastised. "I know you."

She sighed, resigned to the fact that he does know her and that he will not stop until he gets his answer. He was safe, warm, trustworthy. She could share this with him if no one else and she found that truly, she wanted to share with him. "Lola's family is-was- of Linlithgow." She admitted in a whisper with the hope it hid the pain she felt. "Her sister just recently gave birth to a daughter."

Bash now understood her ardent wish to avoid violence in the village, even at the cost of personally facing the rebels. "You think the blame will come to rest on you, that your friendship with Lola will be lost if the worst should happen."

Mary cast her gaze away, shame coming clear as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "The worst is already about. It is likely they all are dead, including that innocent girl. The family is-was- so very loyal to me that the rebels had most likely did away with them first of anyone. I doubt they had opportunity to leave. Aonghas barely made it out alive, and he is a seer." She turned to him, her manner direct but dreadful, having already succumbed to personal defeat. "You may not have felt so before but surely now that you see me for what I am, someone whose presence always puts others in danger, you think the lesser of me."

He waited out the next few moments of her inconsolable crying before he turned his body more fully to face her so that she may see he had nothing to hide. "Mary, I do see you for what you are. You are a queen yes, but also a girl. Nay, you are a young woman." He reached one hand to her cheek, to steady her gaze upon him. This is something she must come to understand. "And I know that woman's heart; I see her pain. You came here out of service to your people. If your arrival means someone is trying to take opportunity on your head that is not a fault to lay with you. It is their sin. Even with this loss you are saving many, many more than would otherwise survive through this conflict if it is not stopped swiftly. If Lola's niece survives this it will be because you sent troops to save any who may have escaped. That is what you do Mary. You save kingdoms, you save young girls, you save me."

Mary's eyes once again filled with tears at his reassurance and into his embrace she came. Sitting there by the fire, being consoled by the man she loves so dearly, gave her the one truly great relief she had experienced thus far since he held her last, while consoling her after she sentenced Robert to his execution. In fact, as she reflected upon it, the only relief she had come to feel all day, in all of many months, had all been in his effort, at his workings, his fetching of an apothecary or taking her hand into his own. "You save me also, Bash. Truly." She chuckled softly. "You must always play the hero."

"That's the spirit." He ran his index finger over her chin. "Sometimes a queen just needs a good cry."

She chuckled a bit more, comforted by the return of his cheeky tone. "I suppose." The queen felt less the monarch and more the girl in his arms, snuggling close into him. "I just hope I can recover. I hope I can end this all soon."

Sebastian's hands found themselves warming her arms. "You will. I know you have some idea of how to make peace with the Protestants."

"I do. I just don't know how to fight off this rogue army."

"It will come in time Mary. We will know soon enough."

She looked into his eyes with a nod, thankful for his reassurance before tucking her face into his chest. "Again, thank you."

He sighed into her hair as he came to rest his chin upon her crown. She sounded stronger now than she had at any moment since they reached the village bounds and took in the first victims. He was in awe of her ability to rebound from something most women of her high position in society were entirely insulated from experiencing. She was delicate and strong, commanding and yet so caring as to see to an apothecary's welfare, send a babe a blanket, or nurse him back to health.

He wanted to tell her how he felt just then but thought better of it. Not only was the timing utterly terrible but penniless bastards do not proclaim love for the queens that have stolen their hearts. They only hint and flirt, make plans to protect them, love them from the shadows and keep hope within that somehow a force of God or man allows them some form of happiness with one another.

He looked down into his arms upon her face, fast asleep as if she had never slept before. He could not help but smile at the sight. "Someday, Mary." He placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead. "Someday, you will know on your own just how it is I feel for you."

He breathed her scent for several more minutes until deciding to place her in bed, the babe's blanket at her side. He removed to his own quarters, reluctant for the sake of his distrust of the Scottish men in the outpost but once he saw her guards to be English he too found some sleep that night.

That was, until before the morning should have even begun.

"Sir," his servant shook his form, trying to rouse him. "News has come. You must awake with haste."

Bash took note of the still dark sky out his window as he dressed and ordered his servant to wake the queen once he heard of the matter on which the news regarded. He nearly bounced down the stairs to the main hall of the outpost where stood two scouts, each with much it appeared they wanted to say.

All bowed to Mary as she arrived in her clothing worn the day before.

"What news have we of such urgency?" Mary made only momentary eye contact with Bash, aware that he must have put her to bed the night before. After all he had done to console her, lift her back to her full mind and heart, he continued to care for her. For this, and so much more, she was truly grateful.

"Your majesty. I have news on the carriages gone missing." The elder of the two scouts began. "I found them nearly a mile out of direction, pointed towards Edinburgh. Your majesty, thirty one bodies were found outside of the carriages."

Mary inhaled sharply, aware that left two men missing. "All were guards?"

He nodded, intimidated by the powerful woman standing before him. "I have found one guard barely alive. He be with your apothecary now."

She and her French counsel shared a glance, knowing who lay unaccounted. "An odd position for the carriages to be in, for sure. Anything else of interest?"

The young man once again nodded. "It appears that your carriage was set ablaze by way of arrow." Here he hesitated. "I found the remains of someone inside, a scrap of your cloak, four shackles."

Understanding came about her on the identity of those remains.

"Your majesty." A servant that had been assigned to Aonghas interrupted with his bow. "The guard reports that your nobleman left behind had suggested the move once they saw an army passing the road which would lead to Linlithgow. They moved their interest away from the village and the outpost."

Bash made a full realization then. "They made to fake your death when they knew they were to be overrun. Robert…" he closed his eyes involuntarily, a small prayer being offered to God in the name of the man. "He directed the effort, took one of your cloaks from your luggage. He…"

"He pretended to be me for they set the carriage ablaze by arrow and would assume I be dead and no longer target me." Mary finished, not needing the confirmation of Bash's nod to know the truth of the statement. Her man, the man that had betrayed her had voluntarily given his life in service to the queen he only ever wanted to serve, as misguided as some of his ideas had been. "I know not what to say."

None of them did.

"I too, your majesty, have news of importance." The other scout came forward with another bow. "I rode to Edinburgh in search of survivors but found none. What I did find was word circulating of your death."

Mary and her three advisors all shared a look of urgency. "If they think that I am dead…"

Dùghlas was very much on the same page as his queen. "Ready the horses!" He called to the servants, aware of his peer Latharn already set in gathering the commanders of the English battalion in readying the men.

Bash instructed them to be prepared by dawn, they would leave at first light. He barked orders for the scouts to run for more companies to converge on Edinburgh and to send for half of the remaining reserve of English forces that Mary had yet to take advantage of sitting just over the border and at the ready. Then, he ran up the stairs with Mary in tow. "You know we must to Edinburgh."

"I know. They think I am dead. They are going to try to take my crown by parliamentary action, or worse, by overrunning my mother."

He nodded as he brought her into his chamber, rifling through his belongings in much the same manner she had done the night before. "You must dress in these." He handed her a small bundle.

She looked to the proffered, confusion evident on her face. They were clothes, his clothes. "You wish me to dress as a man?"

"Mary." Bash held her arms in his urgency. "You are dead in their eyes. It is our greatest advantage in avoiding conflict on the journey. They cannot see you if we are to pass any scout or army, rogue or otherwise, on our way to Edinburgh. Do you understand?"

Mary nodded her realization of the fact and set off to her room to dress. She felt so odd, the clothes were too large on her frame but from afar she would likely pass as a man. She took the hat of one of the scouts, tying her hair atop her head and tucking it beneath the cap. She even borrowed a pair of men's shoes from the outpost storage to be sure to disguise anything that might giveaway on her identity.

She left behind her belongings, other than the baby's blanket which she stuffed into Bash's outer coat to allow its fit more uniform on her body and down she ran to her advisors and counsel awaiting outside the outpost entrance.

"Your grace." Her men bowed, none brave enough to make comment on her attire for all understood that in desperate times a woman must act according to her needs. "Your horse awaits."

She took to her steed with Bash at her side thankful that the nuns had taught her how to ride like a man.

"You look beautiful in anything." The counsel let his smile to her show the genuine nature of the compliment, looking upon the woman so transformed from the vulnerability of last night into the commanding queen she embodied. "Are you ready, Mary?"

The Scottish queen blushed as she looked over the full company of men waiting for her command to set out, each ready and willing to die for her and their country. Despite all her guilt over the losses of her countrymen yesterday and her fear for all that lay ahead she knew in her heart that this was the role for which she was meant. She was a queen. She was now leader of a combined army large enough to take down all of France if it desired.

"I am."

"Then let us be off." Bash gave the order and soon the companies fell into line, beginning the four mile journey to Edinburgh.

It was still nearly dark outside, only half of the skyline illuminated from the sun on the horizon. The air was cold, the collective breaths of the men surrounding her creating a cloud of what looked to be smoke. There was a charge in this air, of anticipation, fear.

All that Mary knew was that she was in good company with whom she decided to keep beside her. She looked to her friend, the man always to be found nearby and willing to serve and knew that whatever armies lay ahead they would defeat them, together; that whatever challenges to her crown might have already taken place, they would remove them, together. Yes, she was well prepared for all that lay ahead so long as Bash was at her side.

"Tell the men to extinguish the torches." Sebastian ordered of one of the commanders, now that the daylight was allowing safe passage without them. It would be to their benefit if the remaining half hour of twilight be spent in the ability to not signal their presence with the collective glow emanating from the men.

Mary's smile, one distilled in roguish integrity from all her time spent with Bash grew steadily. "Command suits you."

He glanced at her from the side, wondering what had changed her so drastically from the night before. But whatever it be, he was happy to see her smile, confident and ready to do what must be done. "I _am_ the son of a King, Mary." He reminded her, some cheekiness of his own coming to return. "Though I admit I would rather take my try at running through mud with you, I too enjoy how it feels under foot."

She let out a breathy laugh at that. "Then perhaps we should arrange for such an occasion when all is said and done."

Bash simply nodded his consent, keeping that sentiment close to heart for when he could find time to make use of it. "There is an army ahead."

The queen's manner turned to direct as she set out the order for silence in passing the army clearly lit in a field a quarter mile to their right. If they remain silent, without light of their own, they might very well be able to pass without being spotted, or at least not until they had gained significant ground.

The moments were tense. Mary could feel herself in constant watch of the glow beside them. She could hear a ruckus and was thankful for her men's quick action that morning for she was sure she knew what was about. She recognized music that should not belong here. "Bash!" she whispered in a frenzy.

He had heard it too. "French."

"What are French forces doing here?" She whispered to Bash and Latharn on either side of her frantically. "Did you make some request? I told Thomas to specifically refuse French support."

Bash emphatically denied any involvement in this. "There should be no reason for them here. Unless they be left from…oh." His realization set instantaneously.

"Share."

Bash was overcome with anger at the moment. "When we last sent French support a company was lost along your boarder. We were told it was in a battle against the English in Kelso."

"Lord Roxburgh." Mary gasped. That was his area of her country. "How could he have convinced them to support him?"

"Our French commander had released their command to him when he had taken ill. Your lord reported that all but three men had died in the effort, those three so injured they could not be transported home for some time." He looked to her with apology. "We should have seen this. He was waiting for you to take over control of the forces of the English, tell my men it was a threat against Scotland."

Mary was angry as well at her once thought loyal subject. "His cousin is English, married to one of the lord's found to be privy to the plot against Mary Tudor."

"Someone was a busy man."

"Indeed." She shook her head, the evidence against her subject piling fast enough to nearly issue a conviction. "When we reach the city, the whole of parliament is likely to be in the Lord's room. Roxburgh has armies of his own. If he retained the French he is going to use them to try and demonstrate that he has the support of another crown in taking position, that he can fight off the English forces that had slain me and so many others in Linlithgow."

"Then we shall get to the castle first." Bash called the order. "And when we do you will take care of cleaning up Scotland."

The whole of the convoy picked up speed. Through the work of scouts they learned that the French army was now mobile and a mile behind their pace. Mary was becoming increasingly nervous, her blood coursing through her with eagerness to see her home, her mother, her court.

The castle came into view and she took off into a full gallop, gaining ground on her men and leading them to the fore, Bash at her side where he was always to be found and her advisors in the rear.

"Halt!" the Scottish guards called to them, weapons raised. They did not recognize their queen. To them this looked like an English army about to converge on their court.

Mary whipped off her hat, took down her hair and called to them. "Lower your weapons!"

A Scottish scout of her's road before the confused men, clearly at a loss for what order to follow. They could not be sure who be riding to them at such speed, save that she be a woman in man's clothes, but Mary could see the moment recognition deigned as they spoke to her man. Their weapons lowered, as did their heads.

She road by. "Trust only my men before you."

Soon, she found she and Bash alone for the rest of her company had come to surround the castle and join force in its protection. They arrived before the entrance of the castle and jumped off their horses before running inside, up the stairs and to the hall where she must go.

Bash followed her closely, amazed she remembered her way through the old castle after not having been here since a young child. Truly, he was amazed at all she had become. Her hair flowed in the wind as she road to save her crown and her people, his people as well. Her legs took her through the halls with great speed in her eagerness to set right the people of her country. She was a true sight and he was honored to be of her service.

They made their way through the castle and came upon the closed door of the Lord's room, chaos, yelling, banging of tables clearly heard from beyond.

"Mary," Bash stalled her frantic movement for a single moment. He brushed back her hair from her cheeks, flushed in their nerves and took her close in his arms before gently kissing her cheek. "I told you that you could stop this rebellion."

Her heart fluttered in the cusp of his embrace, the spot on her cheek where he had laid his lips burning in an intense glow of energy. She knew if those lips had landed on her own instead there was nothing that would have kept her from returning the gesture, the presence of the lords on the other side of this door be damned. But even in her sublime moment of reveling in the affections that the kiss upon her cheek spoke out, his words were not lost upon her. This was it. She knew the cause of the factors that had made this rebellion all the worse and she knew how to appease the Protestants of her homeland.

She was ready, and of no small part was because of him. "Thank you, Sebastian."

Together they opened the double doors and took in the room, took in Lord Roxburgh claiming that the English army was outside and ready to attack, that it was a good thing he had called on the assistance of the French.

Bash slammed the doors closed with such noise that all in the room quieted immediately as Mary walked forth in her regal stance before them, in front of where her mother sat upon the throne. "Is this how my court welcomes home its queen?"

The faces among them were all stunned and it took a full moment for each of them before they could all gather their wits at the words coming from the woman in men's apparel. From the corner of her eye she could see Bash's typical smile rise in its mischief as her men, one by one, came to bow before her.

She returned her expression to the man at her side with only a single cornered smirk before she walked closer to the subservient forms of her court. "My Lords, mother. I have come to claim my throne."

Bash watched as recognition of what she was saying came to claim their eyes and inside he laughed in joy. Mary truly was meant for rule.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hitting the halfway point here! Thanks to all sticking with the story.

Also, it was pointed out to me that in chapter 3 I had originally said Bash was younger than Francis. Of course, he is actually older. I have since corrected the error. It will not effect the story's outcome but was simply a typo. Thanks bbtirl360!

I do not own Reign, but Aonghas is all mine.

* * *

As she took her seat upon the throne, Mary looked about the room at those gathered there, presumably in her service. She was supposed to trust in the men that sat before her, not suspect so many of them, Lord Roxburgh and all of the Protestants, of such treasonous acts against her crown. She would never be able to rule her subjects in the company of so many set against her. This situation needed to be handled perfectly if she were to start her reign on the right path and even footing.

"My Lords, I am discontent." Her head held high the authority belonging to her. "An uprising. A move for succession. An entire village slain just outside the bounds of my birthplace, all innocent. An attempt upon my life and not at the hands of the English but of my own countrymen. It is a sad state of affairs I have come to correct."

Both Bash and Mary of Guise, Regent of Scotland and Mary's mother thought very much the same thing as they looked on Mary's address to her subjects. She was a girl no longer.

The mother watched as her daughter, so long since having been in her company, took to the throne with natural proclivity. This woman seemed such a stark contrast to the girl in whom she had little confidence just days ago could take her place in rule in the next year upon reaching the proper age. She had known Mary to be unprepared, unable to understand the politics of her homeland, unable to handle England.

She had still been worried for her on that count during the last several days when it appeared Mary Tudor had sunk her claws into the young woman. But command of the English army was not something she had come to expect out of her and now that she could see her daughter very much alive she was proud to see all that she had become, commanding the attention and fear of all those in the room.

The Scottish queen could see the pride emanating from her mother and Bash, but her controlled rage of authority seemed to have no bounds when it came to the men sitting in the room before her. "Does anyone one of you have something to say on how we as a country have come to this place and time? Of how it is that your queen must come and sit before you in the clothing of a man for she had to fake her identity and her death?"

All of the lords were silent. Some may have simply been too stunned to speak, others may have had nothing in answer to her request but some still had said answers and chose silence over facing their queen.

She knew this, and it angered her more. "Lord Roxburgh. Come forward."

The man was visibly apprehensive as he stood from his chair and took his place in the void of the floor before his queen's throne. "Your grace." He bowed to her, almost unbelieving that she remain alive for his reports had been so sure she had passed.

Mary reclined as she examined him. There was something so very different of the gray haired, blue eyed man she had once known. But it was not that same something which she had expected to find in a traitor such as he. There was subservience, true and utter. She knew not what to make of it so stuck with her facts. "I believe you have something which does not belong to you. Do you wish to surrender it to my French Counsel?"

Bash came forward a few paces to identify himself, his hands behind his back and offering a small bow to Mary and the court. He noticed her comfort upon the throne, how well she wore the responsibility of rule. He was not surprised in this, he was however surprised that she make mention of him in her court to be of her continued service. It was not expected but was something he found he rather enjoyed, having an official position among those she ruled. So, he did his best to look subservient to Mary and yet still intimidating to the Lord in question.

"Your Grace?" Roxburgh was utterly baffled. He had expected her to be dead and now he must face a man he knew not of and surrender something which he was unsure he knew of what she speak.

Mary's eyebrow arched in challenge. "Are you hard of hearing Roxburgh or do you simply not wish to answer my request?"

The lord snapped to at the warning in her question. Clearly she had little patience at the moment and he far rather appease her than face whatever accusation she was to launch upon him for he knew he would not be singled out among all the men there, including the protestants if she had not something she suspected of him. "I simply do not know to what you are referring."

Mary stood, reaching her full height. Her figure a sign of true power. "You have withheld the return of a French company." She walked closer to him remaining on the platform of her throne so as to tower above the medium built man. "Do you deny that you have used said army in your plot to take my crown? That you have used men of your own to claim innocent lives? To kill me?"

The man shrank away from her booming tones. "I- your grace, I most ardently deny the latter two accusations." He fumbled with his hands, something entirely uncharacteristic of a man all knew to be of power and composure on all matters save anger. "I did wish your crown, but I swear to you it was only after you died of other causes."

"Other causes? Such as what may I ask?" The queen's teeth grit together in her ire that this man so openly admit to his plot and yet still retain composure of innocence.

"I thought you would have succumbed to an English plot initially. That is why I retained the French company, so as to appear to have the support of our ally in taking the crown over that of Mary Tudor. I had believed that by pulling France into the matter that the English would set against France and it would be in their best interest to ensure our crown stay Scottish, and Catholic."

"You are quite enterprising." Mary returned for she knew not what to think in that moment. She shared a glance at Bash and saw the reflection of her own thoughts there. Perhaps Roxburgh was not behind this all. "And what of Linlithgow? You truly claim to have had no involvement?"

The man before her looked plainly in his response. "I must admit to your grace that I am unfamiliar with what you mean of Linlithgow? Has something occurred?"

As greatly as Mary did not wish to believe him, there was a level of genuine confusion in his tone that she knew he must truly have been ignorant of the atrocity. She paced but only some as she turned her address to him and the court as a whole simultaneously. "Linlithgow, the village just outside of my birth place was the subject of a most dreadful siege which came to lay out, on display, all of the four hundred innocent lives of our countrymen there. A survivor, a single tortured man, reports that this violence came in the name of looking for me, for my head." She did not even bother to pause before issuing her next statement. "One of you has been trying to kill me."

A gasp could be heard among all those there, particularly strong among her mother and Mary realized that truly, most there had no idea of what had happened in Linlithgow. She believed Roxburgh might honestly not have been involved, she was unsure.

She was not prepared to sentence a man to his death when such doubt had come to rest within her heart. She knew too well how great a matter it was to take a man's life and was not prepared to do so again without just cause.

She had to think on her feet of some manner in which she could come to find the truth, of some manner of disarming the men around her. If she continued to single out the man before her as her lead suspect she might have some chance of an investigation coming to solid conclusions on who, among the men there, was truly seeking her crown. "Lord Roxburgh, you have admitted to an illegal action of great proportions of international political influence. On this alone you shall be detained. However, during your imprisonment an investigation shall be launched immediately so as to discover just how deep your involvement in the plot for my crown has ran. Then you will face trial."

Bash made much of the meaning of the queen's momentary glances in his direction. He knew her more than anyone and knew that she too did not believe Lord Roxburgh be responsible for all that had come to pass. But he made no hint at this, retaining his emotionless attention upon her form as she waved off the guards having ceased possession of the Earl and removed him from the chamber.

"Now, my Lords." Mary returned to her seated position. "We have an uprising still to address."

The regent, mother of Mary stood at the side. "If I may…"

Mary held her hand to interrupt her mother's intervention. She knew she meant well but Mary was to take command of these men in a year's time. She must establish herself as the leader on this issue now so as to smooth the transition. "You may not."

Her attention turned back to her court. "I have spent a great deal of my journey of leading the English troops here under my command," she added this so as to demonstrate the level of her authority. "In contemplation on what to do with the relatively large section of my population discontent to suffer under a crown of a faith so different to their own. I care about my people, all of my people but I care for my country's governance above all for it is what serves our populace." She held her posture high but kept her eyes kind, seeking those of the Protestants in the room so that she might soften their stance against her.

"I will always defend my faith as ruling in this land but I am not unsympathetic to the desire for one's personal freedoms of conscience." She could see the effect her words had among those there. This was more than they could expect from a Catholic queen. "I will tolerate what a man does in his own home or his own heart but I will not tolerate trying to rise against a government in the name of it."

She spoke over the communal intake of breath at the proclamation, aware of just how striking such an admission be. "I am not blind to the fact that some here, unidentified at the time, have been responsible for the use of troops within the Protestant uprising. As I wish to keep our country intact for the sake of both faiths I will offer this. Recall your men. Have them leave the villages in which they have come to take quarter. Return them to their everyday lives and return your loyalty to this court and to your queen. Do this and I will not utilize the English forces of my command, the magnitude of which has never been seen in Scotland as of yet, to repress and eradicate every last man, woman and _Lord_ within this room having supported the uprising against me."

The proclamation, the threat implied startled most there, excepting Bash. His Mary was quite engineering. Keeping her crown with communion of the papacy while simultaneously allowing the Protestants freedom to practice was something wonderstruck. Such a thing had never been truly accomplished before but he felt that perhaps she had stumbled upon a way to do so. They could have their religion, not worry on their head but shall never use their faith against her own, against her crown.

A line was specifically set and if the Protestants in the room knew what a good deal looked like they would see how very lucky they had become in have their queen, who could eradicate all with the powers now belonging to her by her own crown and that of England, outright allowing their private practice of their faith.

Mary might rule with iron, but also with grace.

"I see recognition among you that you understand the generosity of my offer. I expect a full report of the cessation of all hostilities by the morning, before the arrival of only half of my reserve troops, a number far greater than necessary to kill every last one of your men." Seeing the slight nod of approval her mother tried to hide from the court, Mary smiled internally. She did good today, she knew it. "This court is dismissed, so that you might all go about your business," she hinted. "Whatever it may be."

She rose and accepted the bow of her men before exiting the room, their dismissal a relief to all so intimidated.

She refused to look behind her, moving towards the chambers she remembered as a child, where she and her half-brother James, bastard son of her father's favorite mistress, had once played. She thought it an appropriate place to retreat, knowing full well that Bash would follow her as always.

"You were magnificent." Sebastian closed the door tightly behind him before approaching the young queen, his pride showing as he rest his hand upon the cheek he kissed earlier. "Such a natural queen."

"I have been a queen all my life. I rather hope it would come naturally." Mary slipped into the cheeky manner she found most comfortable. She had so very much to repress when it came to her feelings for Bash as right now she had much business to attend. "You understood?"

The counsel nodded, retracting his hand now that it appeared they were back to work. "I did. Roxburgh certainly had opportunity and access to have done all but that does not mean he necessarily did so. You had known him to be loyal to your mother before?"

Mary ardently agreed. The man played a singular role in her short childhood here at court. "I believe my mother may have even had a… she may have had liaisons with him, recurring."

"Oh." Bash wondered on the implications that might have for himself for only a second before deciding that might be better saved for another time. "Then perhaps he truly did only want to keep the crown Scottish. I could see this."

"As could I." She paced the room, looking toward the window where she had once stood for hours, practicing how to hold her posture. "He was much like a father to me. I feel almost ashamed for having suspected him."

Bash placed a single hand on her shoulder, his other securely behind his back. He could tell a full embrace would not be welcomed at the moment but still felt the need to offer comfort. "You mustn't feel so. Unfortunately, betrayal is possible of anyone. It is only fondness that breeds loyalty and it seems he was quite fond of you, even if afraid."

She accepted his consolation on the matter. "Would you lead an investigation, along with Wallace, commander of the battalion, into Linlithgow and my attempted assassination? On the missing company as well. I trust no one else and you always prove so very successful at whatever task I ask of you."

He was glad for that. All he ever wanted was to show her that while he may be a bastard that he was capable, loyal and deserving. "I will do my best, you grace." He bowed, but with his usual smile returning. "After all, why waste effort and time on assigning a task to a lesser man when you have a better one before you?"

Mary smirked to the side, how true his words. "Precisely."

"My dear daughter." The words rang out as the large door to the chamber opened and in stepped the regent, her arms open wide. She noticed the presence of the Frenchman in the room, aware of the rumor circulating of her daughter's affections for the man but chose to table thought on that until she had properly seen her child. "Come see your very proud mother."

"Mother." Mary beamed, nearly running towards the older woman in her haste. "I am so very happy to see you once more."

Bash watched the embracing women with genuine delight. He had been worried that all he and Mary had done to restore some of her emotional balance the night before had been thrown off yet again by all this political business but seeing her so human, so much the woman he knew of her was refreshing and enlightening. She loves with a very large heart.

Mary backed away from her mother so as to allow her friend into the moment as well. "Mother, I would like to introduce my French Counsel, Sebastian de Poiters, son of Henry." She gestured between the two. "He is my closest friend, so please treat him kindly."

The regent took in the young man. He was gorgeous, and seemed to harbor a genuine affection for her Mary. She could see this. It takes a woman to know what lay in a man's heart and she knew for a fact that if he were not a bastard that her daughter would be married to the future king of France. "I always endeavor to treat the French kindly. But I will make more the effort for your friend. It is my pleasure to meet you, Sebastian."

He bowed to her. "The pleasure is my own, I can assure."

The mother nodded politely before turning to her daughter, aware that business must resume. "I wish to speak with you on Roxburgh."

Mary stepped closer, aware of the difficulty her mother must be facing. "I have arranged for Sebastian to perform an investigation into the matter fully, however his efforts will not be subject to Roxburgh alone."

The regent took in a breath of relief. She knew then what the young queen meant to do. "He had been excessively worried for years that our crown would fall to English hands."

Bash stepped forward as well, deciding he should take over the conversation since it was his investigation. "Perhaps you and I might discuss his motivations, and those possible of others so that I might have a place to start."

The door opened once more before a reply could be made "Mary! I knew you would be here." James Stewart, Mary's half-brother came into the room. "I have such fond memories of teaching you 'royal ways' here."

Mary could feel the pink rise on her cheeks, her playful game being revealed in front of Bash. "I feel it has been too long since I have seen you last. I might introduce you to my trusted friend and counsel Sebastian. Bash, this is my half-brother James, Lord of Abernethy."

Bash and the man bowed to one another, aware the other was much like he, the favorite illegitimate sons of their fathers, both kings. "Might I steal my younger sister?"

Bash and Mary of Guise both gave their consent and were left to their interview on the investigation while Mary took her elder brother's arm in search of a walk.

"You have grown into quite a fine young woman." Her brother admired, pride emanating from him. "You nearly scared half the lords in that room to death you know, including myself."

Mary chuckled softly. Theirs was an interesting relationship. She knew him to be one of the few Protestant reformers in court which did not wish the uprising, according to Dùghlas. She knew not much of the man he had become other than he too loved someone that he should not and that the weight of Scotland's concerns came to rest upon them distinctly, though in separate ways. "You will find my brother that I have had great instruction on becoming that queen I must be."

He eyed her face peripherally. "And some moral support as well, I assume."

She knew that tone of voice. She was suspected of some mischief. "What ever do you mean?"

"Must I say it?" He waited until they were outside the castle doors and past the guard's listening ears to continue. "Your friend, Bash you called him? Tell me of him."

Mary's blush grew steadily more inflamed. Her brother knew quite well what he was insinuating. "He is Francis's brother, quite roguish. I think he rather enjoys that he is not royal, for he gets to hunt as he wishes, compete in tournaments, fight, ride, flirt-"

Her brother cut off her words. "Yes, he loves to fight for the pretty queen with whom he flirts I must wager."

She guiltily looked away. "Will you not let me finish." She waited out his chuckles before continuing. "He has proved to be a most capable and loyal friend and counsel. I trust no one more."

"Not even me?" He asked, some playful challenge in his tone.

"Not even you, my brother." Mary supplied, knowing those words were quite true. She was unsure if it spoke more of her trust in Bash or simple lack of familiarity with her brother to know his loyalty more in her heart. "He is also very intelligent, aware, capable of command really. He gives me such great support that I…" she trailed off at her brother's accusatory stare. "What?"

The man looked around them as he stopped their progress through the gardens and turned to her. "Mary. Just say you love him. There isn't shame in it."

She wished she could share the sentiment but found it so unnatural to do so, even if she had said much the same to Mary Tudor. "I trust him. Is that not enough?"

"Very well." He sighed, retaking her arm. "Now, the true question is what do you plan on doing about Francis? He is an unpopular choice for a consort of England is he not?"

"That is most certainly the case." She joined his sigh with her own. "I wish to maintain the alliance with France, I am just unsure how to secure it without my hand belonging to the dauphin. He is a treasured friend, but not only do I not wish to marry him now that I do not have to, I feel as though doing so would only bring down all the progress I have made." And potentially bring about his death, she added in her mind. She should speak with Aonghas soon on that thought.

"Such a busy young woman you are." He pat her hand that rest upon his arm. "Now, we shall deliver you inside to your mother, I am sure she has much to say on the young man as well."

Mary rolled her eyes at that but was happy to be returned to the castle, this time to her mother's chambers. Her brother left them to their 'woman's time' which meant he was off to spend time with his mistress. This, they all knew.

"I have had such an interesting conversation with your friend Mary." The regent broke the friendly banter of her third round of Pope July with her daughter. It was such a relief to see her taking relaxation when so much rested on her mind. She was glad to see her daughter had learned to be patient when no news on the actions of others has yet to come in.

"It seems everyone has taken quite an interest in Bash." Mary returned, her stack now nearly complete. She did so enjoy this time with her mother. It was rare that she could feel that her mother truly loved her but sitting in her company for several hours made those feelings simply vanish.

"Mary. It is obvious your feelings for the man, and his for you." She paused, making a move in the game as she was aware her daughter held great conflict in her heart. "He might serve well by your side, on the side."

Mary seemed to have lost her place in their game. "I would never ask such a thing of him."

"I didn't say you would ask. He might very well volunteer." At the look her daughter sent to her she decided she should be more direct. "I like him very much. He would always be loyal. It is a shame he is not legitimate. He would make the most ideal of husbands. And this is something a mother does not say lightly my dear."

"Yes, well." Mary shifted, clearly uncomfortable. "I am engaged. I should not be thinking such things."

Her mother finished her stack winning the game and gestured for her daughter to join her in a walk about the room. "Mary, you cannot marry Francis but you must return, after the uprising is settled, to France and maintain the engagement until another option is found."

Mary found herself distinctly uncomfortable in all of this conversation but particularly in this. "You mean you wish I deceive the dauphin, pretend I share in his affections?"

The elder Mary knew it was unfair to suggest this of her daughter but also knew it was best for Scotland. "Mary, this is important. I know not what might be done but surely there is some manner in which we might retain the alliance without putting your place with the English in jeopardy." She stopped their tracks at the window, looking to her daughter from the side of her eye as she stared ahead; Bash clearly visible riding a horse out to the gates. "Perhaps we might even find some manner in which you could have your heart's truest desire and not ask of him to compromise himself."

The words of Aonghas's prophesy seemed to echo within, her heart's truest desire. She had already decided that Mary Tudor was the first of the three women who were to set a path before her, and now she was fairly sure her mother be the second. She should fight her mother's words, insist to stay in Scotland until she takes her reign but that voice within her, originating from the piece of her heart saturated in the vision she once had, spoke louder than her conscience or her political wit. The path set before her, she must follow it to have her heart's truest desire. This she could do. "Very well."

Her mother turned her head in genuine surprise. "I had expected much more of a fight from that young queen I saw upon the throne today. You truly must love the bastard."

"I love the son of a king, mother." She assured. "It would do you well to remember that fact."

She could feel her mother's eyes upon her as she retreated to dress for the night, knowing how true those words held.

It seemed everywhere Mary went her feet would not take her fast enough. The consequences of her mother's direction continued to make themselves known as she thought on the matter. She must return to court and pretend to be committed to her engagement to Francis. According to Mary Tudor, she must also endeavor to keep Bash's feelings in mind and not promise him what she might not be able to offer while simultaneously not hurting his feelings. How she was going to accomplish such tasks she did not know, and it bothered her deeply. So deeply she labored upon it all through dressing, dinner and into the dancing of the feast welcoming her home.

"Your majesty has much on her mind." Aonghas stepped closer to his queen's side, aware that she was quite over taken with worry. "Your mother is the second of the prophesy, yes." He confirmed, already having known her next question.

"I feel as though I may never get used to your abilities." She confided. "But I do appreciate your counsel."

He bowed his head to her. "As I appreciate the level of patronage your majesty has shown to me." She had been quite generous he found. An order had been given by Mary that he be provided with large quarters in which to set his practice within the castle. This was to be his permanent home once she took her reign next year.

She allowed a soft smile to the man. "You deserve anything that might enable your service. Speaking of which, have you anything you might share on who might be my traitor?"

Aonghas looked deep within himself, coming to a conclusion. "If I tell your majesty too much, and identify the man, your counsel will be unable to obtain the evidence necessary to eradicate the threat. I will tell you only this. He be male, he not be your love, and be someone close of relation to you."

She sighed. "Unfortunately that does not narrow down the options too acutely." Truly, it left only four potential men, other than Roxburgh. All were first cousins.

The seer could feel her missing something key. "Your majesty would do well to remember that she has a bias, as do her Scottish advisors."

She looked upon Latharn and Dùghlas each dancing with a woman and back to her seer, about to ask him if one of them might be trying to sway her from the man to be at fault but she found the man gone and knew not to look for him. Though she had known him only for a couple days she also knew would never leave in a disrespectful manner if it were not for her own good not to ask what it was she wished to learn.

"Mary." Bash approached her side. "You seem to be very fond of your new apothecary. It is startling to see you have something so in common with Catherine." Mary's look to him spoke enough to have him in a chuckle. "I apologize, I promise to never compare you to her again."

"Good." She teased back. "I might be fond of you but even I am not sure I could contain the rage such a thing might prompt."

"Oh Mary, I would so very much love to see how you react when truly angry with me."

When she looked at him she saw something she never thought she would see, a blush rising on his neck. Perhaps things really did run both ways when it came to how whatever this be that lay between them came to affect the individual. "You should take care. You wouldn't want to tempt me, now would you?"

Bash wished he knew where all this tension came from, for he would do love to replicate the effect again. She was overwhelmingly tempting herself. Did she not know how great it has been upon his resolve to not claim her lips once more, this time without alcohol? Without Francis being able to witness? Without it being called a mistake? Perhaps this went both ways, however. Perhaps since their last attempt she had wanted this just as much as he.

How very satisfying it was a prospect that he truly was tempting her as well. "Not to anger, no." He smiled at her lavishly. "Might I a dance?"

She smiled back, almost shy after their flirting, and took his offered hand, aware all eyes of court were upon her. "Tell me." She whispered as the dance began. "How goes the investigation? My mother seems quite impressed by you."

He was happy for the compliment. "As I am with her. However, I have found some startling information on your missing troops. According to a man left behind to see to his ill wife, it appears they had received word of your death hours before Robert made his sacrifice." He was still startled by the amount of love the single action came to promote for the man who had once planned his death. "I suspect that from whomever that information originated be the man behind the plot of your assassination, as well as behind Linlithgow for it diverted their efforts towards the boarder. A scout is on his way to interview the commander."

Mary sighed out, knowing she must share something with Bash that she was unsure he would take with belief. "You know Aonghas to be a seer."

"I do." Bash confirmed, aware that Mary was reluctant. "He has had a vision for you? I assure you Mary, I hold a far greater respect for such things than Francis. Nostradamus has issued warning to me himself."

She let out a small breath, circling him as called for in the dance and returning to his side. "That is a relief to be sure. Similarly you might well know it to be when I say that he has, needlessly, reassured me of my trust in you."

He smiled gently at that. "You need not worry; I know you would never suspect me of being against you. I am far too deeply embedded in your service." He bowed as the song required. "What direction does he point?"

Here Mary wished she had more to say than what she did. "To a man of my close relations and trust. I ask that whoever he be you not tell me until you are entirely sure of his guilt. Please, spare me the pain of wonder."

"I shall endeavor to never cause you pain." Bash took her hand and continued to lead their steps after promising as much. He knew quite well that the man would most likely be as close as the seer warned and so he decided her request was one he wished to honor. He could not imagine what anguish it would be to have to convict a trusted man, yet again, of treason and sentence his execution. But it would be all the more so if there was any reason to hold doubt.

He danced with her several more times that night, each a true delight, before he escorted her to her chambers. Once again he posted English guards outside her door and left her to her slumber while he made a promise to himself to see to it he find some way of bringing out her carefree nature when the opportunity was next presented.

There was an idea in that but for now he wished to accomplish his task at hand. He set out towards the dungeons and servants' quarters seeking more intense investigation techniques so as to build his case. He wished for a full reveal of all those involved and to gather all the evidence he could to support a conviction so as to leave no doubt in Mary's mind at the guilt of the party responsible for having almost taken the life of his friend, his love, his queen. He was determined to serve her as she deserved and to show her that there was nothing he would not do to support her proper place upon her throne.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thank you for all the support! Stories as long as this simply do not get made without followers and reviewers like you keeping an author motivated.

I do not own Reign

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"Aonghas!" Mary had yet to venture into the apothecary's expanded quarters before now. She was glad to see her orders had been followed and all manner of shelves, vials, canisters and herbs decorated the walls of the space. There were three rooms she had designated for him, one for his personal use, another main room where she now stood and a third for whatever use he deemed necessary. She knew he kept patients in need of private observation there.

"Your majesty." The white haired man bowed to her, emerging from the third room, his face holding a smug sense of amusement. "May I assist you?"

She took in his knowing smile as she held her hand to her head. "You are going to make me ask? Have you anything for this dreadful headache?"

The apothecary snickered and pulled a vial from his work table, already assembled. "I thought you might wish a potion after your take of wine last night." He poured the potion into a cup for her. "I would have come to you if I had not already known you to be on your way. I wish you a clear mind for the day approaching."

Mary eyed the cup presented as she took her seat offered. She did have an awful headache from imbibing the night before which was certainly leaving her mind clouded. It seemed the wine had just kept coming. She was paying for it now. "It smells awful." She grimaced in the most elegant manner possible. "Why must medication always taste so vile?"

"Your counsel already came in search of the same and took _his _potion." He teased her, knowing that she had been only too keen to take what was offered by the lad in his attempt to sway her attention from all her worries. "And_ he_ did not ask questions."

Mary sighed, feeling chastised as if talked to by the nuns and took the cup offered, downing the acrid liquid with one swallow. Admittedly, it did make her feel better that Bash had to come seeking intervention as well, it was thoroughly his fault she drank too much between their dances. He took her request to be left in the dark on his investigation far too serious but she was glad for his effort.

How she hoped she would not have to face that uncertainty any time soon. "What do I need such a clear head for this day?"

The apothecary tapped his temple. "There is much for you to learn and experience today. Some will be dreadful, some lovely. You should be at your best for both types of occasion."

Mary could understand that sentiment. "It seems every day is full, no matter what it is I wish to do."

The seer sat across from the young queen, taking a tisane in hand and offering her a cup of her own to take away the taste of her medication. "Am I correct in assuming what you wish is to spend more time with your lad?"

Mary glanced down into her cup, not sure if she wanted to answer that question. "Yes and no." She took a sip of the warm liquid to soothe her. "I always find him to be of the most enjoyable and caring company but I have learned of some news this morning which affects him greatly and cannot speak of it until my duty here is done."

The gray hair of the man came to bobble along with his head. "Your mother has instructed your discretion. It makes you uncomfortable to withhold anything from the man you love."

She almost denied the last word, almost asked him to repeal the accusation but knew it was no use. She is already nearly lying to Bash, she shouldn't do the same to herself or her apothecary who knew the truth in his own, distinct manner. "Will there ever be a moment when my duty will not interfere with my love, my heart?"

The seer felt sorry for her, a difficult position her current state of life did make. "You are a beautiful young woman, and all such women have so many issues of the heart. You are not alone in that. What you must remember is that you are being led into something you could not otherwise imagine or accomplish. Allow of yourself the freedom to accept what fate provides in way of opportunity."

She placed her cup upon the table. "You are the only person in my life that tells me such things, that not everything is of my control or my doing."

"Fate is a force stronger than duty, your majesty. Sometimes no matter what choice a person may make it will always lead them to the same choice of heart. Even for a queen."

"The power of man pales to that of God. This I know, but depressing it often proves." Mary rose with a sigh at that, knowing her time with the apothecary was running short. Footsteps in the hall were clearly headed for her. "That would be my man come to fetch me."

"Yes, it would." He stood, offering his bow to his queen as she retreated. "One last thing, your majesty. If I may."

She turned to him just before leaving the doorway. "Go on."

"Keep in mind my words of fate. They may help guard your heart today."

Mary nodded to him, her thank implied in the gesture before leaving the room. She had thought it would be her servant there so she was startled to see it be Bash.

"I thought you had already your time down here today." She did so hope he did not pick up on the guilt surging through her. She should be telling him of all she learned, but she couldn't. If she wanted to follow the prophesy she had to allow her mother to lead her path, even if it meant withholding something so important from the man before her.

Sebastian rose one brow. Something was off about her, as if she was caught in some naughty act. "Checking up on me, Mary? I did not know you to be a busy body."

She took his arm as was offered and began their walk to the Lord's room where she was to meet her advisors and lords for a report. "A busy body. I am a queen. We must be aware of all that happens around us." She truly did take comfort in their challenges to one another. "Truly, Aonghas told me of it when in search of a remedy of my own. You are in trouble, by the way. You gave me far too much wine to drink last night."

His voice rose in his amusement. "I gave you too much wine? Do you not remember all your requests for me to fetch a servant?"

"Perhaps." She grudgingly admitted. "But I still rather prefer my version of the night."

He preferred her version too. He wished he remain ignorant as she on what it was he learned the night before during his investigating. "Well, you are the queen between us. I suppose your version of history must be correct."

She smirked at that. "A gentleman you are."

He smirked in return. He was not so sure of that. But at the very least, the night of investigating had proved interesting in one aspect he felt he could share with her so he did not feel such the liar he did in withholding so much information, even if it be at her request.

"I saw your mother in the dungeon last night." He looked to the queen on his arm, wondering if she were aware or responsible for what he had come to witness and on what it might mean for him if she were. "She was claiming someone from their depths."

Mary's blush grew steadily and she had to take a moment in focusing on the floor before her to recover. She was glad for the distraction for she knew quite well what her mother had been doing. "I assume she must be quite refreshed this morning, then. She always is after such extensive exercise."

Bash almost could not believe he heard her right. "You mean you knew she would have some… time with Roxburgh last night?" He was not sure if that was more startling or the fact that Mary just made use of a metaphor in her mother's love life. She was far less innocent in mind than he had once believed, even if he was sure she was still innocent of body.

"Yes, I find I cannot deny my mother much of what she desires." In truth, Mary had felt sorry for her mother as the night before had gone on. Between dances with Bash, where she felt on top of the world in her feelings for the man, she caught glimpses of her mother's woe. She realized then just how similar their situations. Her mother loved Roxburgh. It was terribly unfair that she be denied the one love she ever really had for the man's wish to keep the crown Scottish. She would have to punish him, but perhaps she could find a way of doing so that did not punish her mother as well.

"I found it acceptable, while you went to fetch me wine from a servant, see it was all you, to direct the guards to allow her access." She ignored Bash's impressed and amused nodding. "I saw no direct threat from him and told them that the regent might entertain the man for the night so as to learn more of whatever his involvement in the plot might be, though I am sure there was very little speaking on that count."

Bash could not contain his laughter so hid his face as best he could from onlookers as they arrived outside the lord's room, the lords rushing in before their queen. He stood in front of her, his back to them, shielding their view from the still crimson cheeks of their queen. "You are a most enabling daughter." He whispered into her ear conspiratorially once they were alone in the hall. What a sign this seemed to him. "I, too, have heard that sometimes exercise can do the soul quite well."

Mary's heart began to speed ahead at the look in his eyes as he said such a thing, in so close proximity. It was as if there was some promise to those words. "Yes, I have heard as much."

They remained locked in gaze for another moment charged with tensions between them before he stood tall and regained a respectful distance. "Duty calls, your grace." He bowed and entered the room before her, holding the door as her entrance was announced.

Internally Mary sighed, trying to keep comfort in Aonghas's words at heart as she did her duty and took to her throne. She was not eager to see her subjects or her advisors after such an encounter with Bash, but, fate had other ideas at the moment. "My Lords, be seated. I believe my advisors Latharn and Dùghlas have some report on the state of hostilities?"

The two men came forward as the rest of the lords took to their seats as told, along with Mary's mother who did indeed look quite refreshed. Mary was glad to see it and made a small smile to the regent before turning back to business. "What news have you?"

The two men held gentle smiles as they looked onto their queen, particularly Latharn. He was relieved more than anyone. "Your grace, it appears all hostile activity has stopped in the villages. Your Englishmen are providing escort to groups of men bound for homeward destinations along the same roads. They are proving quite capable of policing the end of this disaster."

She looked about to the lords in the room. "This is excellent news. I am happy to hear my offer has been taken seriously by the lot of those here." Turning her attention back to Latharn she continued their conversation. "Have you anything else to report upon?"

Latharn stepped forward, only slightly as to distance himself from Dùghlas who chose to remain silent during this time. They had a long disagreement on what to share with their queen but the elder advisor knew he could not withhold this from her. "Your French counsel, on your order, sent back men into Linlithgow after our arrival yesterday, to make identification on survivors and begin the burial process."

Mary glanced at Bash, aware he had told her as much last night. It had been his idea and enacted before consulting her when still at the outpost but she was thankful he had retained his wits when she had not. "And have we identified all those missing and killed?"

"Indeed we have your majesty. Additionally, and this I am sorry to report, we have found those who chose to flee from the city. It appears only your apothecary was able to escape with his life. We can confirm that none" here he looked to her pointedly, willing her to take the gravity of this into her conscience "including the noble family of the village have survived."

Bash was nearly overcome with the desire to tackle Latharn to the floor for having informed Mary of something so devastating in front of all the lords there. But he knew the other man knew not of the importance of that family as he had come to learn. Lola's kin were now all deceased, including her infant niece. It was all he could do to rein in his feelings on the matter and stand strong for Mary. It was a good thing he did, for she was looking to him for moral support.

Mary had to divert her attention to Bash for the momentary glance, glad to see that he understood what she gathered from Latharn's speech. She was even more thankful that he had no reaction to it for she was unsure if she could retain her composure on the matter. Even with Aonghas's warning that she not take guilt on this, that she remember that fate played its role, she could not help but know that it was because of the search on her head that those people died.

"I thank you for the information, as tragic as it may be. Please see to it that all families are notified and please request additional clergy for the funerals."

"As you wish, your grace." Latharn bowed and retreated, taking his seat in front of the lords, Dùghlas besides him.

Mary took a moment to inhale deeply so as to retain her composure, something that seemed to not be helping. "My lords. What occurred in Linlithgow village was unacceptable." She wished she knew what it was she was about to say. It was as if her tongue had become its own entity. "You may sit there and find no sin of your own in this, perhaps you did not contribute to the uprising. Perhaps you did give troops but it was not yours that killed so many innocents. I care not."

She stood, her anger rising over all else within. "We have a responsibility to our countrymen. We have a duty to the bread bakers and apprentices, mothers and young, unborn children of that village and every other. We may not be able to change what has happened but I will tell you this. We are _all_ going to behave differently from this day forth. Any one of you whoever shows a potential to create such an uprising again will need not face trial, or stand peer judgment for action to be taken against him. If even suspect, your men will be taken from you. That is my prerogative and I will exercise it whenever possible if it is in the name of saving even one innocent life. Is this clear?"

All there nodded, silence overtaking them. Even with all that had seen of their queen the day before, all the strength she had exhibited they had not expected to see such a strict and commanding nature of her. Taking away a lord's men was a serious punishment, something which had not been done by even the good regent. They understood now that there was no going back to the potential for hostilities. This queen stood strong and took a hard stance on this. There would be no double crossing her as the Protestants had already begun to plan.

She looked about them, seeing recognition light onto their faces. She was not to be trifled with. "Additionally, while I am not to take the throne for a year I will have you know this. My command of the English armies stationed within our boarders remains. Do not get ideas into your heads that in my absence you may try and take advantage. I will find you. I will eradicate you. I will not allow any threat to my crown or to civil peace take any purchase. I have been generous in my acceptance of your individual practices. Do not make me regret this and retract the liberty."

She took her seat when it appeared that all their understood her sincerity and allowed her lords to approach with minor concerns for the next half hour until she dismissed them. She had somewhere else to be, someone else she needed to be with.

"Tell me you are going to find the man who did this." She tearily commanded of Bash before saying even another word to him, thankful for his arms crashing down around her as her body shook.

He gently knocked the door closed with his foot before leading her over to a bench set in the small study by the fire. He wished to not think of her reaction when she finds out who her traitor be. He would keep his promise and not tell her until he was sure. Tomorrow his witness would arrive and he would put the man on trial then, under the regent's authority. But for now, he could say only this. "I have him in my sights. Mary, feel no guilt over this. Only feel sorrow as is expected."

She let her tears subside in his gentle tones and lifted her face to his, seeing the same unshed from him. How guilty she felt, not so much on Linlithgow, but in that she sit here demanding information of him from something she asked to remain ignorant of and she cry over it when she withheld such important knowledge from him. "I apologize. I always seem to be crying on your chest."

Bash chuckled a bit at her, lifting her chin to look at him. He wished she would not feel so dreadful for something of not her own fault. "Mary. It is a sad thing to be sure, to learn that an infant has passed. No one is immune to such tragedy."

She nodded her understanding, thankful that he could show her that she was not alone in those feelings. "I will be alright now. I had already come to mourn them in the outpost." The word mourn made her cringe inside, remembering what it is that she is withholding from the man she cares so deeply for. "We are resilient, though. Are we not?"

"We can withstand this, together." He smoothed her tresses with his fingers, delighting in their texture and shine. "My father always taught me that no matter a person's position in life, so long as he has loved ones and a friend he is whole and can withstand the tests fate places before him."

Mary's heart constricted in pain at that, but time to examine why was cut short by the opening of the door revealing Mary's mother.

"Sebastian." The elder Mary addressed the man sitting far too close to her daughter for propriety sake. She did not care about this, only that it could have been some other person to have discovered them. She would not mention any discontent, however. In her heart, she wished to only encourage them for she knew too keenly the pain of sacrificing love for service. "Perhaps you could continue your investigation. I have some matters I might discuss with my daughter."

Bash stood, offering his bow to both the regent and the queen, the latter of which he was reluctant to leave. However he knew of some way to use the time wisely in service to her and so left with a determined smile upon his face.

Once they found themselves alone, Mary's mother claimed the seat vacated by the Frenchman. "I see he has helped some of your recovery from the news." She had been thankful that the lad informed her of Mary's worries on Lola's family. It helped her understand her daughter's emotional upset and determination all the better.

Mary nodded, not up to the challenge of denial when it came to Bash's effect upon her. "He handles these things so much braver than I. I can cope, but hurt is still within my heart on thinking of the babe's demise."

Mary of Guise took her daughter's hand in consolation. "We learn of atrocities such as these far too often I am afraid. It is the largest burden upon a monarch's shoulders. Though, I do believe you may have made some impact in preventing such from our soil for some time."

The queen knew the regent was opening up their conversation to what she had said in the Lord's room, on her proclamation that she will be keeping English troops in Scotland. "I appreciate the effort and authority by which you command, mother. However, you must see that our country needs a transition. I am to reign within a year and soon after this our kingdom will be united with England. I do not intend to rule the two separately, but as two entities minor to their one crown."

"That is ambitious to be sure, however I do not doubt you my daughter. There was a time, I will admit to this, when I did. But that is no more. All of your lords agree. Such was being discussed in the room below us where a small party has gathered."

Mary was glad for her mother's pride and confidence in her, and more so that the lords of her homeland seemed to be accepting of her ability to lead as well. "Perhaps there will be no more attempts at overthrowing the crown then." She stood and turned back to her mother. "I think it might be wise, in that spirit, to join their company then. Do you think they all still be downstairs?"

Mary of Guise stood and took her daughter's arm. "I do. This is the reason I sought your company. You must mingle with your court. As well as fear may work-"

Mary cut her mother off as they left to the hall. "It works best if they love me too."

They retreated down the hall and descended the stairs in quiet conversation on her mother's thanks to her daughter for providing the loveliness of the night before with Roxburgh. No names were mentioned, due to the public nature of the chat, but the regent was truly grateful to have any moment with the man that she could. She told Mary to be sure that she too cherish whatever opportunity life afforded with Bash.

On that last sentiment Mary had found herself quite distracted but there was no time for contemplation. For now, she had lords to entertain.

She mingled among them for some time, speaking shortly with her Protestant cousins George and Henry, both of whom she desperately hoped were not her traitor. She met several wives of the lords there at the informal gathering, asking one in particular if her daughter would enter service in two years' time when she was of age.

It was a relief to see she was being accepted by those there for she knew that soon many challenges would face her Scottish court, her English court and her family in all the change and trials ahead.

On the topic of family, there was one man she was missing among all those there that she was just about to ask on until he emerged.

James sauntered into the room with a woman on his arm and went straight to his sister's side as it vacated upon his entrance. "You my sister are proving a most commanding young queen." He kissed her cheek and then gestured to his companion. "Mary, this is Viola."

The queen looked to the woman not more than a few years older than herself and smiled politely. She was certainly beautiful and she was sure that this be her brother's current conquest. "It is a pleasure. Are you here in service at court? Have you known my brother long?"

The blonde could feel every nerve light on fire in the presence of her queen. She was intimidated both by her power but also in that she was the most important member of James' family. "I have not been called to service your grace. Nor do I suspect I will with my husband's situation, as it is."

Mary's eyebrows furrowed in the elegant manner only she could manage. "What is your husband's situation?" She noticed her brother's gumming of his bottom lip. "James." She demanded.

"I have improperly introduced my love to you, sister. This is Lady Viola Roxburgh, Lord Roxburgh's wife."

And that was the moment Mary's breath seemed to leave her. If it were not for the fact that she had been trained all her life to learn to respond to news such as this without shock she was unsure if she would have been able to manage. "I apologize. I did not know that Roxburgh married again." Her mother must have been heart broken when it occurred.

"Yes, well." Viola nodded politely, stroking the inside of her arm in clear discomfort. "Our marriage is not one of love. I suppose now that it will likely end, with his admission to all. I do apologize, your grace, for his wrongdoings to yourself and all those people."

Mary maintained her composure, not for a second letting anyone, even her brother, think that she thought Roxburgh not guilty of anything other than keeping the French company of men. "I do appreciate your situation." Her situation being that her husband, in her eyes, was likely to die and she be freed from her marriage. "How long have you been married?"

James and Viola shared a look which spoke a long meaning. "We wed four years ago. Five months later, our son Edward was born."

Mary looked between the two, the young and beautiful, clearly wealthy, noblewoman and her bastard born brother. Someone had been busy years ago, years ago being a time that she now recalled Roxburgh having faced near financial ruin. Well, that explained it all then. Viola got a rescue to her reputation and saved her son from being bastard born of a bastard father and the old man so in love with Mary's mother got the return of his fortune. "I understand your meaning clearly. Let us dispense with the covert manner of our conversation. You might entrust your secrets in me."

James' smile grew wide as he looked to his love and his sister. "I knew you would not judge, especially considering your own situation."

Mary chose to disregard the comment of her own situation. She hoped that she would never have to face marrying a man for the sake of something that she and Bash might… she simply chose to ignore the implication. "A son. Might I meet him?"

Viola allowed of herself some relief. "Yes, of course. He is with my mother in the country as of now, however you might meet our newest arrival."

Mary's eyes grew wide as Viola called to a servant and moments later a small babe was being brought into the room, placed within her arms. "What is her name?"

Viola smoothed back the wild hair of her daughter being held in the queen's arms. "Mary Catherine. After yourself and my mother."

"I do believe this is my first namesake." Mary smiled lovingly at the infant.

She was stunned and overjoyed at the level of love she already had for the young one. The small gasps she took as she cooed. How she sucked on Mary's finger with vigor when allowed. It brought such joy to her heart.

James was relieved to see that his sister was not only understanding of their situation, she was falling just as in love with his daughter, whom he could not claim, as he. "It is so terribly easy to love her is it not?" He reveled in his sister's silent nod as she continued to cuddle the infant.

From across the room her half-brother noticed someone else just as interested in Mary's reaction to the young lass. "I believe you are being closely watched."

Mary turned to see Bash, arms behind his back with that gentle smile he only ever held when he was pleased with her, approaching their small group. "I was wondering if you were going to return at some point today."

"I would not leave you for long." Bash sidled up to Mary's side, enjoying the view of her so engrossed in such a motherly, affectionate act as she held the child. "Who is this now?"

"Mary. My namesake. My niece." She proclaimed, immediately returning her view to the infant not two months old. "I have a niece."

The words spoke volumes to him. No one else was sure to pick up on it, but behind the joy in her tone was also a twinge of guilt. Of course Mary would feel so at this moment. Only hours ago did she discover the fate of Lola's niece and here she finds one of her own. He wished to free her of such sadness among joy.

"She is lovely, much like her aunt." His response was quick for while he did not want to end this sweet moment, he did have something that needed to be done, especially with this newest development causing even greater bonding with her brother. "I apologize but I need your grace for an urgent matter."

Mary's gaze joined his reassuring but pleading one and she calmly returned the child to her mother. She made a quick excuse as Bash quickly stole possession of her arm and together they made haste in their exit of the room.

"What has happened?" Mary was filled with dread. There was only one thing that she could think of that would make him act so. He must know who it is that has been after her, who wants her dead and wished her to not be near him.

He was leading her from inside the castle to the out of doors, to the grove behind a stand of trees. He was not telling her anything no matter how many times she pleaded. There must be some danger in the castle, some reason for this panic.

"Please Bash!" She whispered frantically as they made their way through the small path leading to the clearing ahead. "Tell me. No one can hear. You know who it is. Tell me."

Bash sighed, wishing he could. "Mary. I do know for sure. But I wish to spare you the pain until a witness I have found may come forward tomorrow. I have already arranged for the trial to take place under your mother's authority."

"Then it was someone in that room?" She gasped, feeling needles and pins on her skin at being in such close proximity to her conspirator. "That is why you brought me here?"

He felt guilty for allowing her such worry but encouraged that she had not figured it out on her own. It would only be injuring to have suspicion without confirmation of his witness. "Mary, just a moment and you will see why I have asked your company." He kept his tone neutral until they came upon it; he pulled back the last bough separating the path from the clearing.

She was confused, she saw nothing in the clearing of interest until she looked to the man with her and saw his guilty and hopeful smile. "You brought me out here for mud?" Her relief was palpable, her amusement building.

He chuckled in seeing her gain some calm and reached behind an evergreen, extracting a pig's bladder. "No. I brought you out here because I wanted you to claim distance from your traitor, gain some perspective on the joys you should allow yourself to have and give you some relief before tomorrow, as I am afraid it will be particularly awful for you." He distracted himself from her reaction with tossing the pig bladder ball in the air in front of him. "And I decided to do so by playing futeball with you, in the mud."

Mary took in all the information there, the confirmation that her traitor was close, that it would injure her heart in finding him. But she also knew Bash had understood her mixed feelings on learning of a niece and truly, she could use some fun, fun as only her roguish friend could provide. He was rescuing her yet again, but this time it was from herself. "I did promise you I would return to my mud running days."

"That you did." He was glad to see she was pleased in the prospect and joined her in stripping off their shoes.

She ran ahead while he was still unfastening his laces and launched a mud pile at him for having worried her so and the response he gave had her in full joy. Her hoot of laughter bounced around the clearing in the genuine fun she found with mud underfoot, kicking the ball past Bash which sent him chasing for it. "I thought you would be better at this." She taunted him as he lined up his shot. "You always seemed a sportsman to me."

Bash reveled in her humor, her ability to let go of all the trepidation and guilt she must feel and just be her at the moment. It was just them here, Bash and Mary. She was not a queen and he was not a bastard. "Unlike you, Mary, I did not have the advantage of nuns' instruction." He kicked the ball back to her, scoring it past. "And yet I still prove up to the task."

They both snickered, turning their attention to the playful and competitive nature of the game for some time, intermixed with taunting and the occasional slip in the mud. Their clothes were thoroughly ruined and they couldn't have cared less.

Mary was nearly out of breath from all the running, yelling and laughing. "I cannot believe you found this here. I have yet to see mud anywhere since we came. Scotland hasn't seen rain in weeks."

Bash tried to hide his expression in his next admission. "I will admit to working quite hard in hauling the water to make this for you." He kicked the ball to her yet again, mud coming to stain her dress where it hit her leg, the only place that had not yet seen dirt. "I simply could not resist seeing you happy and getting the chance to set you free."

"I barely ever get that Bash. Not without you." The statement was punctuated by her grateful expression and the sudden change in the atmosphere around them. "Look!" She cried as the rain that had so long missing poured down with sudden vigor. She spun around in the drops, making her way towards Bash in her effort.

He laughed as he watched her make her way closer in the most enjoyable manner possible. Once she was within arm's reach he stared up at the rain beating down upon them with humor clear in his tone. "And here I had done all this work. I have such poor timing."

Mary burst into hilarity at his mock defeat and had to clutch onto Bash's shirt for balance as the mud became increasingly unstable. That proved a futile effort however as he too was so thoroughly overcome with laughter that her clutching onto him threw them both off balance and into the mud they fell, his body on top of hers.

Laughter ceased, replaced by sheer intensity in the surges of emotions passing between them in their eye locked state. Their position was intimate, breaths mingling, legs intertwined. All their energy seemed to be recharging between them, pent up frustrations on information kept from the other were abandoned in favor of other emotions once so repressed under the surface they could now not be stopped from spilling out to be plainly witnessed.

"Mary." Bash breathed her in, his eyes darting over every surface of her face in the attempt to commit everything to memory, the expression of her eyes, the pout of her lips, the mess of her hair entangled in the mud. He was consumed by her, the charge between them and nothing more. Finally it seemed as though he had all he wanted, her in his sights and without interference from anything or anyone else.

"Bash." Mary gasped his name, her attention entirely focused between his roaming eyes and his perfect lips. She had longed for him for so long, ever since their first kiss. This is how it should have been all along. And here they lay, so intimately entangled into one another that no amount of self-control would ever be enough to resist this, resist him. She wouldn't want to anyway. He was so utterly the man she craved, needed, loved. She felt as though his chest pressed against hers was the only thing keeping her heart inside herself. He held her together but she knew there was some way, one way she could let go.

Her face rose slightly, tentatively and gently grazing her lips along his in one pass as if to offer permission and it was what he took. His head followed hers as it lowered to the ground and together they crashed into a kiss that started with sweet passion in a single moment of contact and then regained for many minutes longer that only rose in steam from there.

It seemed that every emotion that they had for one another was poured into this, every ounce of love, every bit of passion together pulling a blanket around them that prevented the cold or the rain or the mud from taking away anything between what they shared.

His hand wound into her hair as both of hers did much the same in his. Lips massaged lips, air was gasped for between playful nibbles and licking of the mouth's crease until soon, tongue upon tongue teased one another amping the electrical charge between them to such heights they together lost track of everything around them save the other.

For several minutes they stayed in that embrace, continuing the pleasure of one another until it became necessary to stop or face a slippery slope of heated passion that should remain unquenched. It took everything Bash had to realize this and halt their activities but he cared so greatly for Mary he would let nothing sully any experience so wonderful with fears and moving too swiftly.

With that, he pulled away from her lips and simply stared into her eyes as he rest his forehead onto hers for some time. They both took in all that had just passed between them, all the emotions that seemed to have been stated without words. He knew they would not be spoken today but he could live with that, knowing that somewhere within Mary there existed a girl who was just as much his as he was hers.

She felt just the same. Even with all she knew of him, all they had shared before there was nothing so utterly wonderful as physically feeling his love surround her. It was unlike anything she had ever known before. It was utter and real. And she knew she would not have stopped, so Bash having stalled their movements proved only the more endearing, knowing what difficulty it took to do right by her.

He took his time in watching emotions reflect back in her eyes but the cold of the rain was becoming troublesome for Mary and so he knew this must end. Reluctantly he sighed as he placed one last chaste kiss to her soft lips and lifted his body off of hers. He helped her stand, pulling her close to him but still far enough where he could see her face fully. He did not want to spoil this but he had something that needed to be expressed. "Please, do not call this a mistake as well."

Even through all the daze of passion still strumming through her overtaxed senses, Mary heard something in his voice that she never noticed of him before, utter vulnerability, fear of her rejection. She did not think it possible. She knew not what to say to him. There was so much she wished she could proclaim. If it were up to her she would tell him but she kept the warnings of Mary Tudor in her heart and decided to silence his fears with simple action instead.

So, she held him to her, standing their ground despite the cold and rain as they continued to stare into one another's eyes. Up on her toes she raised in answer to his question, reclaiming his lips in yet another seemingly endless kiss.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N: Sorry for the late post! Thanksgiving kicked my butt this year.

It has been so utterly wonderful and touching to see the reviews I have received. Thank you.

Disclaimer: I do not own reign

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"I do not know how I will function without your counsel and support while in France." Mary stood in the apothecary's third, private, room where just days earlier she had interviewed Bash's witness and learned all of the plot against her in Scotland. In the time since she had so very much business to attend it seemed she spent no time in her apothecary's company and so she wished, before setting off for France once again, to thank him.

"Your majesty." Aonghas bowed his head to his queen. "You are young and brave. You do not need an old man to know how to rule or how to love."

The seer always knew exactly what was on her mind but she was unsure if she could stand to speak on the latter at the moment for how very upsetting her entire situation with Bash proved ever since she told him the news she had kept on her mother's instruction. She had revealed it bluntly, in a state of her own sorrow, sparing all effort to show her shared sorrow or compassion on the issue. She hadn't even done him the service of preamble before announcing the information so plainly and the guilt she felt was tremendous.

Thus it was a topic of conversation she was keen to avoid. Thankfully, she had much more to occupy her thoughts on returning to France. "Have you any words of warning for me?" She heard her servant calling for her and so by silent agreement the two began their journey to the hall and out of the castle. "I will be without your insight in France and I do not trust Nostradamus."

Aonghas laughed heartily. "As well you should not. Friends we are, but our loyalties lay in our queens."

Mary smirked at that, the wink launched in her direction. She, and most of French court, had their own idea of whatever it was that bonded Nostradamus and Catherine. But comment on it she would not. "That is something I can assure you for which I am truly thankful."

The seer's lips pulled into a small smile as they entered the main hall, nearing the entrance of the castle. "On the matter of a warning, this is for you, your majesty." He handed to her a neatly folded piece of parchment. "Read it when you feel in your heart the time is right. You must trust yourself to know when it should be done."

Mary nodded but said nothing in response, awaiting more to be said.

"As for your lad." He took her hand and kissed it when at the open doors. "Things shall improve."

Mary was not entirely sure she believed that, despite her utter trust in Aonghas and his visions. "He still barely speaks with me." She sighed, glancing at Bash who stood dutifully waiting her exit of the castle. "I do not blame him either."

Truly, she did not hold any ill feeling on his chilled responses to her the last few days after their candid argument. It hurt, it was painful to go from their kisses in the rain, their stolen moments of tenderness the next morning and then this, nothingness. It was all her own fault, however. She could not claim either surprise or innocence in any of this. She had kept something of great importance from him for days, until her mother gave her permission to share the news. By keeping this knowledge to herself Bash felt the one thing she wished she could have kept him from ever feeling, something she herself had felt by others at the time. Betrayed.

It was she that had kept all from him, she that had been heartless and she that had accidentally insulted him just prior to it all. It was no wonder he cared little for her company. That she was even more the sorry, for she knew it meant he would not allow her to comfort and soothe the utter sadness produced by the news itself. For this, she grieved heavily.

"You did what was necessary for your path." The seer placed a gentle hand on the queen's shoulder knowing the guilt the young queen felt in all that had occurred. "Now I must part with one last token of advice on the matter."

Mary looked up from her preoccupation of the floor, aware that all eyes were on her in their wait to see her off the castle grounds. Her nerves were all alert, however, on whatever it may be her seer had to say. "Please."

The apothecary took one step closer to limit the potential for anyone to overhear. "Your mother had made a suggestion on the type of relationship you might acquire with the man." He knew his queen would understand this to be the regent's suggestion that Mary take Sebastian as a lover much as she had taken Roxburgh. "I will not comment on whether this is to come or should come to pass or not. I say only this. Be open to the possibility."

Mary accepted his quick bow while she thought on that briefly. She wished anything other than placing Bash in the position of Roxburgh, in the position that James had found himself. Thoughts on those men were not something she was keen to focus upon on the moment and so turned her attention to saying farewell to all those there and taking to her carriage, Bash taking his seat across from her.

An hour's silent ride followed by a transfer to their ship found them several hours later in continued silence, save for a polite 'your grace' issued by Bash upon entering the ship's galley. It was becoming unbearable for Mary. She was thankful that at least Thomas had taken the journey to meet her aboard the ship to inform her on what she had missed on French politics while in Scotland or she would have felt terribly lonely in addition to agitated.

Other than some exchanges between Thomas and Bash when asked a direct question or to ascertain certain details of his country and family, and Mary and Thomas on some items of news, discourse was at a general stall for the three who usually enjoyed animated conversations.

Mary was growing increasingly frustrated over this. Here she sat during their evening meal in company with a man who before would have conversed with her until his tongue swelled, kissed her just the same, held her for all of his worth. Now, there was nothing.

"I will miss Scotland." She ventured, unable to look at him lest she continue to see all the pain residing within the man she loved. Thomas was a far safer target for her attempts. "I spent more of my life in France than my own country but this is where I shall always call home."

"I am personally grateful to soon be far from here." Bash returned, refusing to meet her eyes. After hearing news of France and with everything Scotland had held he would never be the same man. He changed into someone for whom duty became a vital element and was therefore unsure as to where he stood in his world anymore, particularly in hers. He was once her confidant. Now, he was someone from whom she kept vital information and he knew not how to cope, particularly since she seemed so unaffected.

It did not go unnoticed by Thomas that the young man was avoiding the queen's conversation. Thankfully, he received an enlightening letter from an apothecary the queen had taken into her confidence which shed light onto all of the details of their relationship in his absence. It eased his mind some in knowing this was likely a lover's spat. He was however weary of whatever be the cause of so much unsettled tension between his future queen and the counsel. They used to reek of romantically charged frustration. Now they reeked of arguments, arguments similar to those he and his wife had at the beginning of their happy marriage. He decided he might avail himself to Sebastian upon coming to that conclusion. He may be of some assistance.

For now though, he had tensions to diffuse and turned to his queen. "It is surprising you would wish to remain in such a place where you have been betrayed so acutely."

She winced, remembering every detail of what had occurred here. Bash might have a point. What a dreadful time, other than those moments of bliss shared with the man across from her. Still, the love of her country held strong in her heart. "I will not allow the view of my entire country to be determined and sullied by the inconceivably self-serving actions of my brother."

Thomas was surprised at that to be sure. "Your brother, your grace?" He was sure there was an interesting story to be told and if she were to allow him the privilege of its knowledge he would be truly honored.

Despite the distance between them Mary looked to Bash seeing he was exchanging quite the same look. Both took it as perhaps not all was lost between them. She still desired his counsel and he still desired to not see ill come to her or her reign.

Upon seeing that need for his opinion, Bash decided to place his feelings aside for the moment and speak on the politics of all that occurred. "Mary's half-brother James was found to be her traitor."

Thomas nearly gasped, his eyes wide when he looked between the two at this news. The story all knew was that Dùghlas was found to be part of the plot and convicted but they were unable to extract who the other conspirator might be. Hearing that they knew it to be, and he be family, was surely surprising and so he wondered if she were protecting the man despite all that had gone on. "Why was he not put on trial as well?"

Here Mary sighed, knowing that while she certainly trusts Thomas, she was sure this would be a surprise. She was glad Bash spoke up, for she did truly want the Englishman to be privy to this business as it would enable his better functioning of his position and she found that whenever she was unsure of her own instinct to trust, if it was one shared with Bash, then it always on target. "I found an alternative, a manner in which I might prevent further uprisings of the Protestants."

Bash interjected, some pride emanating as he thought on Mary's quick thinking before the trial. "It was ingenious, really. We found James to have actually been the leader of the uprising, contrary to the assurances of Dùghlas that he was fundamentally against it despite being the leading Protestant at court."

Mary felt a pang of regret wash through her at having believed Dùghlas. "And so, I thought I could use him. I retained evidence, the product of Clesson, a messenger loyal to me having delivered letters proving guilt. I made no mention of him, however. Since I wish he to remain available as a witness I allowed him to return to his family in the highlands until such time I might need his services again."

Thomas smiled broadly understanding the political mastery here. "By keeping this over James you allowed someone of your control to remain in the position of power of your opposition." He chuckled. "I assume you will give him instruction on some minor ways he might defy you to retain that position too."

Bash joined in the smile for he knew Mary had done just that same. "I believe Mary's precise words were that she would allow him to keep his position and his head but that if he defied her without her consent she would lower the ax upon his neck herself."

The queen blushed at the pride of the two of three men she trusted so violently with her secrets. "It was not comfortable to think of such things given that he is family, particularly considering his children. However, I have no attachment to the man now, with all he had done."

Bash knew there was more to it than that, she cried for hours that night before, when so overcome with her sorrow, she shared news equally sorrowful of his own with little care. He tried to not remember that, or he might not make it through the conversation at hand but feeling the pride and love for her surging in equal measure to all else this brought up was becoming too much to think on at the moment.

Thoughts on his family, his news, her, all seemed to creep back inside of him and there was nothing he could do to starve the pain away. "Pardon me, your grace. I feel unwell." He stood suddenly and excused himself, aware that Thomas was watching the exchange but he could not think of that at the moment.

Mary watched the man she loved leave, and seeing all that same pain as before return made her cringe and wish they were in a better place, a place where she could run after him and see to him. But he would not want to show her that weakness and she would not be welcomed, she feared, for what she had not said to him.

"Your grace." Thomas adjusted in his seat, aware that it was up to him to keep his future queen on an even keel. "You need not continue. I understand how difficult it was for you to execute Dùghlas for his involvement in all of this."

"Not as difficult as one might think." She turned to him, glad to return to discussion. "Truly, his actions only made it easier to deal out his conviction but harder to cope with all that happened with Robert. Had it not been for that man figuring out what my newest advisor was up to, I would be dead."

Mary thought on how Bash's witness had been quite well informed in all that had occurred the day she entered Scotland. He was a messenger of her brother's who had been sent to intercept the army she had dispatched to Linlithgow after another messenger had brought word from Dùghlas. He had learned of everything afoot when waiting for the commanders to make a decision on what message to send back with him.

He, Clesson, had not liked what he overheard. The word slaughter made him put aside all loyalties for her brother he had and open the second letter he was to carry towards the outpost. It was asking for an update on whether or not the rogue army had been successful in capturing and killing his queen. He rode off to Edinburgh to try and make warning but news had already spread of Mary's death and so he road to the boarder to try and beat the army about to slay Linlithgow where he hoped to find English troops willing to suppress James. He could not pledge loyalty to a king made so by such terrible actions.

When he had arrived at the castle, greeted only by Bash per her orders on wishing to meet him before the trial, the three met in Aonghas's quarters and she learnt of all the details there, including several she and Bash both had never expected. "I had thought I would feel relief when Bash had told me that James was not the man that put a price on my head. He knew not whom, however and I suppose I am not so selfish as he, in caring more of all those innocent lives lost over my own."

Thomas, once again, found himself amazed at the knowledge coming to pass. "I thought you said he was your traitor?"

"He was." Mary took a sip of her wine before continuing. "He made the orders on Linlithgow in an attempt at framing Roxburgh and therefore removing his largest competitor for my crown as well as the husband of his lover in one fell swoop." She paused to nod at the unasked question in Thomas's eyes. "Viola's two children are his, my niece and nephew." She took yet another sip of her wine. "It was not James that made the order to have my head hunted. Bash knew this but not who until Clesson informed us. It was Viola. James wanted only to be able to overthrow me, have me running to England or France once more. Viola wanted no manner in which I might retake the crown or discover the plot to frame her husband."

"And yet you did not convict her of treason either?"

Here Mary's smile grew almost devilish. "As selfish as my brother might be, the one person he truly does care for more in this world than himself is Viola, as well as his children. The idea of my being able to put her to death at any moment is truly what I believe is allowing for my ability to control him."

Thomas felt his smile grow even wider. "I had heard much of how impressive of a queen you have proved. Now I see what an underestimation all the praise has become." He lifted his goblet to hers in congratulations before he continued. "There is one thing however. James's punishment of always being at your, Catholic, bidding is quite fitting. But this situation leaves Viola entirely unpunished."

Here Mary shook her head delicately. "On the contrary. I forced her, for even though she be a protestant her legal husband be a Catholic, into taking her vows on becoming a nun. She is freed from her marriage vows of course in the exchange and allowed to see her children and James on the occasion. However she must spend the rest of her days in service of a faith to which she does not prescribe. Otherwise, she knows James will die."

The advisor leaned forward in utterly impressed interest. "And the children? Roxburgh?"

"The children will be taken by governess under the authority of their legal father, Roxburgh. Eventually I will take them into my own household. Roxburgh did take the French convoy and under the assurances of Bash in representing the French in their lack of anger over the incident, I was able to punish him only with the removal of his men and confinement to his castle in Kelso for three years."

"Kelso, where your mother often visits?" He had heard much on the rumors of the regent and lord Roxburgh but the queen's nod confirmed it all. "So the man is now free from his bounds of matrimony."

"And soon shall my mother be free to take whatever husband, rich he might be from his previously dissolved marriage, that she might wish once I take the throne for good next year. Of course, this is how I will be able to take authority of the children later. They will become my step siblings, after all."

"Sebastian is correct. This truly was ingenious."

She allowed a small lift to her smile but took the cue of the return of servants coming to clear their plates as her reminder that they best move towards sleep. She had much to contemplate on all that had happened in Scotland and she felt she needed the time of the full day approaching to figure out how she was going to pretend to love Francis or at least be devoted to their engagement while so thoroughly in love with Bash.

She sighed as the thought struck her upon entering the privacy of her berth. The remaining distance between she and Bash, due to her own actions, was likely to make that an easier prospect than she feared.

Outside her berth's door, Thomas heard that sigh and knew precisely what was going through his queen's head at the moment. As encouraging as it had been that the two had spoken on the matter of James, he knew not all would be well until he got them to speak to one another once more, as they used to, sharing all their secrets.

An idea struck him and so, without knock or preamble he entered the bastard's berth. "Your apothecary told me of his vision, told me that he had indeed seen it come to light when you returned to the castle both thoroughly soaked and obviously in love."

Bash had turned over half way through the man's sentence. He could not be even the slightest upset that Thomas stood there as he did. He knew that of anyone, Aonghas would have spoken to Thomas on this. The seer had been there at the entrance of the castle when he and Mary had returned from their kissing and playing in the mud with a potion and excuse at the ready for them both. He needed nothing else to know that both men had the best interest of the relationship he shared with Mary, whatever it might be.

"Perhaps, for me this is true." He stood, glad he had wiped the tears that had been stinging his eyes away before he rolled over. "She has no permission to open her heart. I do not expect it, even if I wish it."

Thomas sighed and leaned against the wall slightly. "And yet, she has allowed herself, despite everything, to love you. She might not say the words but this is true. With this comes a responsibility on your part. I understand why you are mad that she kept what she did from you." He did not want to mention it in words for fear of rubbing sand into an open wound. "But you are upset over it, understandably, and need her to get through this trying time. And believe it or not, part of love is this. She needs you to allow her to do this."

The Frenchman sighed as he thought that over, allowing the Englishman to retreat. He followed him out of his birth and was aware that Thomas was distracting the guard posted outside Mary's quarters.

For what seemed like an hour but was in actuality less than a minute he stood in silent contemplation. There was only one person on this earth that offered any great relief to him in any fashion and she be the woman that had hurt him so. But he knew it was unfair to keep blame on her. He was angry, yes, that she did not reveal something so important for days simply because she needed him to focus, so he could do her bidding. But that thought was not fair.

He knew he would still have tried to find her traitor. He knew he would have insisted on staying in Scotland until that business was settled because he trusted no one else. And he knew that he would likely have only suffered or worse, possibly failed, all because his mind would be distracted with thoughts on France.

With a sigh, he finally approached her door and placed a gentle knock, relieved when Mary opened the door and allowed his entrance before the guard lost his interest in Thomas.

Mary stared at him for some time before she realized he seemed apprehensive, scared on how she might react to this. Most of what lay between them was her fault, so she broke the ice. "I am surprised to see you. It has been some time since you have sought out my company."

Bash stood awkwardly in the small space, positioned between the bed and Mary who leaned against the wood door she had shut after letting him in. "I apologize." He felt nervous, more so than he ever truly had in her presence. He did not know where to go from here. Never had he and Mary been at odds or so distant. Even after their first kiss, when she called it a mistake, he had been so captivated by her that he hadn't allowed himself the opportunity to be truly injured. Now, however, he realized the difference. "When I had said that I would never be able to trust you again, I was taken aback by what you had told me. I did not, I do not, mean it. And I hope that you can forgive me for having fought with you and left when you too were experiencing great pain."

Mary sat with relief upon the bed, patting the spot next to her for him to join. "Nothing has seemed right for so long, since I found out what James did in Linlithgow. I think the moment I thought my brother responsible for my death I lost the ability to be kind to those I care for. So, I believe this is why I was so careless in how I told you the news and so heartless in my responses." And yet, even though she was so cold-blooded he stood here only days later in apology for something that was not his fault.

Bash knew, now that he had thought on it, that what she was saying was true and felt sorry for her. "There was never going to be a way I would learn of it without heartbreak, Mary. That is not on you." Besides, he played his own role in creating the situation where she had been so utterly upset. "And, I really never did mean to let you think he was the person at fault in that, though I knew, just as you said, that it would be heartbreaking to know your brother capable of such a thing as Linlithgow." He chose to not think on how she had responded.

Mary, however, could not escape the memory of her response when he told her he was sorry it was her brother. It was the remark she had next made that felt as though it was the beginning of all that stood between them. "I did not mean what I said." She struggled to find her wording, willing Bash's attention to meet her gaze. "I did not mean to create parallels between my brother and yourself in what I had said. I apologize for it. I sounded very much like Catherine."

Bash swallowed and returned his view to the door. It had hurt dearly when she told him to not call James her brother. While he understood why she said she claimed no kinship to a man who cared so little for his countrymen it had hurt when she said that James was not her brother but her father's son. He had heard this all his life and he knew then how delusional all he felt for Mary had been. "There is no need to apologize. I am well aware that I am a bastard Mary." He licked his lips and willed himself to regain her eye contact so as to convince her he was unbothered. "I have never allowed of myself the delusion that I could ever attain that which I really desire."

Mary watched him closely, aware of just how painful this was for them both. "I would not have it any other way, you know." She quickly moved to correct her words as Bash looked away in shame. "What I mean to say is that I wish you had the ability to have what it is you desire. I desire that which I might not attain either." She hoped he understood her meaning. "But I would not wish for you to have lost that freedom that had made you the man I call my friend."

Bash sat in a moment of examination, willing himself the permission to forgive what to him was the smallest burden facing them. "Just as I admire you, for the queen you have become."

"I am glad but this queen must issue an apology." Being a queen was what always seemed to be the overruling aspect of her identity, the part which created situations such as this. "I am sorry, Bash. I truly never wanted to keep anything from you. There are some things, however, due to my position," she almost decided to tell him about the prophesy but decided against it. "I cannot share with you until the timing is appropriate."

She took his hand, hoping he realized that meant more than just secrets on news, it meant words she cannot yet say, words she might never get to issue. "You need not apologize for anything for you did no wrong. What I wish now is only to tell you the words you have said to me. You are not alone here."

Bash let out a sad chuckle before taking her in his arms, burying his face into her hair. Her scent was one of the few things that brought equilibrium, that prevented the fall of tears. "Thank you." He sighed, breathing her in further. "You should know that my moods and detachment is not all you Mary. I find it impossible to know how to respond to anything."

His words quieted as he stared off. "Of course I always knew it would happen but never did I think it would so soon that my father would be so ill, I never thought I would be away from home so long when he is about to-"

Mary shushed him and wrapped her arms fully around him frame. So often he had held her this way, protectively and caringly. She was determined to be the support he needed as well. "He has some time left. The doctors said weeks when they sent the message to Scotland. There will still be many, many days for you, for us, to say goodbye and enjoy what time we have left with him."

He stilled for many moments thinking over what she just said. "You are going to miss him too, are you not?"

"I am." She withdrew slightly so as to look into his eyes. "I never had time with my own father and spent most of my time in France. I suppose, besides the nuns, he is the person closest to what I might call a parent, even if we have had our many disagreements on issues with the alliance."

Bash nodded and pulled back soothing the hair pulled awry in their embrace. "Francis will make a great king for France. I suppose I feel better in knowing that."

The queen swallowed delicately, the reminder of her continued engagement to Francis all the more prevalent. His father dying made matters somewhat more complicated as the king, and Francis, were both likely to be all the more eager in securing the marriage before his death. She would not be surprised if there were some attempt at having the wedding date set within the next few weeks. All her hopes on stalling the event in the attempt to keep from being forced to potentially create hostilities with France in refusing the engagement were now resting mostly upon the shoulders of Catherine's fears and distaste of Mary's wedding her son.

Hoping for Catherine's success in the matter was far too foreign a concept as of yet to fully entertain so she turned all her focus to Bash, once more. How she wished she could tell him that she did not intend on going through with marrying Francis after all.

"That he will." She sighed, allowing herself to feel the warmth of his hand upon hers. "Though I must admit that for everything I have seen since we have left France I am convinced you are both the better man and the more capable for rule."

For the first time in days Bash felt pink rise upon his cheeks. He didn't think he ever received such a wonderful compliment. It was always to others that he was not fit for rule even if he were not a bastard. Knowing that Mary thinks otherwise made him feel less the bastard and more the simply unlucky man. Of course, he had Mary's affections so how unlucky could he really claim to be? "It would be difficult for any man to not rise to the challenges and example you present Mary."

She took her own turn to blush and swiped the messy hair in his eyes away from his face. "And yet you are the only man to do so."

He looked upon her eyes searching in his own and took in the state of their embrace, needing nothing more than the affection of her words, of being told he was special in her eyes, to encourage him to once again claim her lips.

She smiled even as she kissed him, so delighted that they returned to this state. Mary was so terribly in love with Bash that the days apart made her ache all over. Now, it seemed that their intimate exchange soothed all that had come before, save one thing.

She pulled away when they needed air and rested her head against him. "Bash. I truly am sorry about your father."

He nodded and took her closer into his arms and lay back on the bed intending to settle in. He was grateful that she made no protest for he knew not how he could bear to part with her. "Thank you, Mary." He kissed her forehead and then planted a chase peck to her lips. "My queen."

They smiled to one another gently and cuddled for some time watching the other until she realized that he had fallen asleep beside her. Hearing Thomas give instruction to the guard outside that he should not disturb either the queen or Sebastian, a manner in which he could allow the guard to believe the two were in separate quarters, she smirked. She could allow Bash to stay just like this in her bed, holding her as the rough sea gently rocked their ship.

As she pulled the blankets over them and settled deeper into his arms she wondered if she could continue to do this in France. How dearly she hoped that she could find times alone with him, be able to kiss and confide in him. How she hoped that she would be able to do what she must in order to fulfill the prophesy, which she prayed somehow miraculously included Bash as the other parent to those lovely children, by pretending to still be loyal to Francis. How dearly she hoped that now that she and Bash were happily speaking once more, she could do all that needed to be done without breaking his heart.

She opened her eyes, fighting the sleep pulling them closed as she looked upon his face in the final moments of her waking state. "I will do my best Bash." Her whisper grew all the more quiet as her lashed finally fluttered shut. "I will try to have you. My king."


End file.
